


Women of the Western Plain

by DarthSayahSwag



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Western, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 04:34:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5320634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthSayahSwag/pseuds/DarthSayahSwag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke Griffin is a homesteader looking to make a new life after being disowned by her mother. She and Raven as two women face the challenge of being two women attempting to start a life on their own. Eventually, Lexa, a half-Pawnee woman joins them on their farm, drawn to Clarke by some unseen force. Will Clarke allow the woman into her heart as well as her life? Or will her pride and stubbornness cause her to push the woman away?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Western AU: Lexa is a half-Pawnee on the plains of Nebraska. Clarke is a homesteader who has taken up a farm under the Homestead Act of 1862. She, accompanied by Raven, and plans to start up a farm. She is faced with obstacles, hardships and being a woman attempting to make her own way in the west. Can Lexa give her a hand? Or will Clarke’s pride cause her to stubbornly refuse her?  
> Author’s Note: The use of the word Indian is in the historical sense in that settlers called them that. (The author is also a Native American of Pawnee descent visit me at darthwanheda.tumblr.com I speak on Native Culture quite often.)

**APRIL 1863**

One cow. One cow is all she had been able to afford and only enough seeds for a month’s crops for two after she had made her way west. She and Raven had one horse which pulled a wagon that held wood, and some of their belongings. They had made their way west after applying for land under the Homestead Act and being granted their 160 acres of land to settle on. After her mother had disowned her a few years ago, Clarke had been left with very little. She had been very vocal about slavery. Something her Southern-plantation-owning mother had not approved of.

She had saved up as much as she could when the Homestead Act had been announced. She knew some about farming. She hadn’t spent all the time on the plantation being ignorant like her mother. Clarke knew about the different crops, their cycles, soil and watering, mostly from her father and from playing with the children around the plantation. Something she would often get into trouble for. She had a curious mind. Her father, rather than scold her for it, would encourage her. He had died in a disagreement when he had planned to free his slaves.

Clarke had been disowned when she fought her mother over doing what her father wanted. His last wish.

Now America was in Civil War over Slavery and the Succession. Clarke decided to get out while she could. Going west was her exodus.

Raven was her only company. The daughter of an Irish man fresh from overseas and Spanish woman he married as he landed, she was an adventurous type and the best person Clarke could hope to bring along with her. When Clarke had told her of her plans, Raven had hopped right on and helped her to save up for the trip west.

It had been a long year of working odd jobs and saving every bit of coin for a horse, wagon, and wood, and even thinking of applying but they made it. The trip had been long and hard and fraught with wild animals, bandits and the possibility of attacks by Indians but they had stuck with other settlers moving west and Clarke, equipped with the rifle her father had left her with, the only piece of him she had taken with her when she had left home, had been able to fend off any opposing contenders.

Landing at their first stop in Nebraska, a fort where most of the settlers could buy whatever they needed from other settlers and fort supplies, Clarke and Raven browsed and settled on a cow and some seeds to get themselves started. They spent the night outside of the fort.

Raven of course, quickly managed to get her hands on some whiskey from one of the soldiers in the fort. She easily charmed the men on the road and could get favors from them, even without returning anything. Although a young man, Finn, the son of a settler heading the same direction as they were had caught her eye on the road. Clarke rolled her eyes at that. The boy had tried to flirt with her a time or two but she had shot him down before he tried his luck on Raven.

Clarke took a swig of the bottle from Raven as she settled across from her in front of their fire.

“The soldier boys inside the fort say we should be careful out on the homestead.” Raven remarked as she took the bottle back from Clarke.

Clarke glanced around their camp. Other wagons, horses and settlers were scattered around outside of the fort. Buildings, trading posts were built around it.

“We knew this would be risky Raven. You getting scared now?” Clarke turned her gaze to Raven.

Raven grinned.

“You know I wouldn’t be here if there wasn’t some risk.” She joked.

Clarke laughed. She took another sip of the whiskey when she noticed a pair of green eyes watching her in the distance. She handed the bottle off to Raven. She looked for the owner of the eyes curiously only they were nowhere to be found.

_Odd._ She thought to herself. She shook her head.

“I’m going to turn in Raven. Get some sleep soon. We head out first thing.” Clarke told the other woman.

Raven nodded to her silently as she gazed into the fire thoughtfully. Clarke smiled to herself. This was the start to their new life. She would fight every step of the way for it if she had to.

 

Finding their plot of land took some mapping. Clarke was the better navigator. Raven was more into building things. When they finally found it, a few trees dotted the landscape. A small stream ran nearby. An easy water source, as long as they boiled it before drinking. Clarke hopped down from the wagon and dug her hand into the soil, getting a feel for the land. It felt… right. She smiled.

Raved whooped and took off her hat. She ran over to Clarke and threw her arms around her.

“We’re here Clarke!” She yelled excitedly as she bear hugged the blonde.

“Home at last!” She jumped, cheering.

Clarke watched and shook her head at Raven.

“Yes. Now we get to work.” She stated laughing. Raven deflated grumbling.

“You’re no fun.” She growled as she stalked off toward their wagon. She began to unpack, pulling out cloth and calling Clarke over when she needed her help with the heavier stuff.

They stacked wood against a tree and covered it with wood that night. They took apart the wagon and made it into a temporary shelter until they could build themselves a more permanent one. Raven took the axe and began to chop at branches for a fire and to ready the shorter trees for wood.

Clarke got to work fencing in an area for the cow and horse to graze. She dug and planted a couple of posts to latch them to until then. She wiped sweat from her face as she worked.

The two women stopped midafternoon for a meal of jerky and dried fruit. They had enough food packed away to serve them for a month if they were careful. Clarke hoped they could work some crops and maybe milk to get more of whatever they needed.

“Maybe we should get a chicken next.” Raven remarked.

Clarke nodded. “Chickens aren’t too bad. We’ll need to build a coop unless you want to sleep in the wagon with them. Probably get the corn going too.”

Raven laughed.

“Imagine waking up with a cock in your face!”

“Raven!” Clarke admonished the other woman for her crudity.

Raven laughed even harder. She, like her father, had never been great with appropriateness. Clarke had met him a few times, even working in the tavern he owned, serving drinks. Clarke, a Southern Belle born on a plantation, had taken some time to get used to his mischief and crude jokes.

They continued to work well into the evening, Clark making good progress on digging and planting posts. Raven piled branches and took down two of the smaller trees.

As they settled around the fire Raven built, Raven turned to her friend, “I’ll take first watch.”

Clarke nodded. She went into the wagon and changed into her nightwear. Her day clothes were sweaty and smelled of it and it was a relief to finally get out of them.

Raven woke her up hours later to take her turn at watch. They slept like this on the road and would probably sleep like this until they had a proper shelter.

Clarke changed sleepily as Raven slipped into her bedroll. Clarke slid out of the wagon. She smiled at finding that Raven had rebuilt the fire before trading off their post. Clarke wouldn’t freeze at least.

She settled near the fire with her rifle. She watched the night around her. It was dark beyond her fire. The stars that littered the sky lit up the night as the moon served as a lantern. Clarke smiled. She looked for constellations. Her father had taught her many of them when she was a child. She missed him.

A soft crunch in the night drew her attention towards the trees on her land. Clarke squinted, attempting to see into the darkness. It was too shadowed for her too catch anything.

Clarke shook her head. She hoped it was just a small animal. Nothing big. Or… an Indian. She did not need an attack this early in her settlement.

She stayed alert throughout the rest of her watch until morning came. As the sun rose and light touched the trees, Clarke turned her eyes toward the trees. Seeing nothing, she decided it had to be a raccoon or an owl. She stood and stretched then grabbed a bucket to fetch water from the stream.

Raven stepped out of the wagon looking like she had been hit with a tree.

“Another day and more work.” She grumbled.

“Good morning, beautiful.” Clarke laughed. Raven was not a morning person.

Clarke moved around and pulled out their breakfast. Salted pork from a pack. She grabbed the cast iron pan inside of a box and began the process of cooking the meat for her and Raven to eat.

The two women ate in silence as they contemplated the day’s work: Building the fence around their land.

Raven grunted as she stood. She stumbled sleepily over to logs she had chopped up the day before while Clarke made up a pot of coffee. Raven would get bright and chipper once she had some of the dark roasty liquid in her system.

She poured the liquid into two mugs and walked over and handed one off to the other woman. Raven sighed as she took a sip from the mug. She drained the entire mug and handed it off to Clarke. Clarke took her time with the coffee and placed the dishes in the wooden crate they kept their dishes in.

They got to work carrying wood over to the posts Clarke had planted the day before and measuring out where to cut the wood. Raven chopped at the wood and worked to split them then placed them in the holes cut into the posts that Clarke and Raven had pre made into them before moving west.

By the end of the day they had a fence.

Clarke took the first watch that night. It would continue like this. Work, trading watches, work. The two women finding laughter wherever they could.

Then he came.

They were a week into their settlement. They had planted their seeds and begun the foundations on a cabin. Raven made progress on chopping the trees on their plot.

He and his sister were dark-haired and dark-eyed. They were in the plot next to their own. They had apparently been abandoned by their own parents. The girl was more sociable but the young man was surly and protective of his sister.

“Who done stuck a gun up his butt?” Raven grumbled 3 days after Bellamy and his sister, Octavia showed up.

Bellamy had glared at Raven after he had come over to fetch Octavia. The girl had stopped to chat as she crossed their plot to gather water from the stream in a bucket. She had been shy the first time she had chatted with Clarke and Raven but as the days progressed she opened up more and more, telling the two women her story and why she and her brother were homesteading together.

They liked her and hoped they could help each other out. If only her brother weren’t so darn rude.

“That sounds really uncomfortable.” Clarke muttered. She went back to milking their cow. She smiled. They had gotten lucky. The animal was a good producer.

Clarke thought about maybe churning butter, but they would have to buy the means to do so. She would look into prices the next they were in town. She looked at the bucket below the animal in front of her thoughtfully.

“Raven, bring me a spare mug.” She ordered.

Raven brought her a mug and Clarke ladled out some milk into the mug. She finished milking the cow then set the bucket off.

She and Raven would drink it later.

Clarke crossed over to the other plot of land and made her way towards the tent Bellamy shared with Octavia.

Bellamy stepped out of the tent as she approached, he dusted his hands off on a cloth. It seemed he had just finished eating.

“Hello.” Clarke gave him a stiff smile.

“Hello.” He was gruff in return.

“I thought you might like a glass of milk.” Clarke offered.

Bellamy eyed her warily.

“I don’t need your handouts.” He replied gruffly.

Clarke frowned.

“It’s more of a peace offering. I would like us to at least get along. We are neighbors, you know?” She told him.

Bellamy looked back into the tent. He seemed to be thinking about it. Then he eyed Clarke.

“Alright. Fine.” He agreed. He then took the milk from Clarke. He drained it right in front of her.

He wiped the milk mustache from his upper lip then handed the mug back to the woman.

“Thanks.” He nodded gratefully and stepped back into the tent.

Octavia came out as Clarke stepped away happy with her success.

“Clarke!” She called.

“Octavia?” Clarke answered.

“Thank you.” The dark-haired girl told her shyly before darting back into the tent.

The next day Raven and Clarke found a basket of eggs outside of their wagon.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**LATE APRIL 1863**

Lexa followed settlers back to their lands all the time. She was required by the fort to ensure they settled in safely. After that, much of the time, they were left to their own devices. Unless they ran into trouble with one of the local tribes.

Then she was to report back to the fort and they would send soldiers out to fend them off.

She wasn’t always pleased with their work, but the Pawnee were allied with the fort and who was she to say what she did and didn’t do?

The latest group of settlers Lexa had followed had intrigued her. The woman with hair like the sun and eyes the color of the sky had lingered in her mind. The woman with her had been dark almost like the Pawnee, but she spoke like the white men.

Lexa glared down at her reflection in the stream. She was the child of a Pawnee and a white woman taken from the fort. The Pawnee accepted her only as an interpreter and a scout for her people. She could walk as Pawnee but only when outside of their villages. Inside of Pawnee villages she would be looked as she was; a half-blood.

She sighed. She had to focus on her current task. A group of settlers had lost their daughter in the woods and she was leading a search for the child. She doubted they would find her. She was likely dead by now. Killed by wolves, a bear, or taken by another tribe.

Sun would be shining on them for her to be found alive.

Lincoln, another half-blood followed silently behind her as she tracked the child through the woods. A piece of torn cloth, likely from the girl’s clothing clung to a bush.

Lexa led the group as she followed muddy footprints, torn bits of cloth and searched for bits and signs of a small child having stumbled through the woods. Then she heard the small cries.

Growling.

Lexa hurried toward the sound.

A little girl was cornered by a wolf. Lexa hurried toward her, her footsteps silent as she dashed over a boulder and into the animal with her knife. She clung to the animal as she hacked and slashed. She killed the animal, overpowering it easily as she stuck the knife into its throat.

The little girl gasped and whimpered and covered her eyes as Lexa threw the animal down.

“Don’ don’t hurt me!” She screeched.

Lexa stopped momentarily then reached a hand out, carefully, she approached the little girl.

“I won’t.” She whispered gently.

The little girl sniffed. She stared at Lexa wide eyed. Slowly she placed her small hand into Lexa’s.

Lexa gave her a soft smile and picked her up. Lincoln picked up the wolf she killed. He would take it back with them to skin later. Lexa carried the girl out of the woods. They returned her to her family. They thanked Lexa and the scouting group warily. Lexa took the payment they offered. She couldn’t turn down what was being offered even if it would make them look better to do so.

Back at the fort, Lexa dismissed the group to do as they wished. She herself often taking leave to explore. She took the payment given to her by the settlers to their handlers and turned it in. They would split the payment up to her group.

It was market day.

The money handlers offered her a sum to spend for the day. Lexa shrugged. She may as well. Market day meant sweets, fruits, farm goods. Whatever helped the settlers helped the fort as well which in turn helped her scouting group.

She walked off towards the market. Lexa took a leisurely pace as she browsed the stalls of goods and wares. Some of the farmers sold cloth, crops, seed, and animals. Lexa was less interested in these. She made her way toward the food vendors. She thought of the more flavorful meats that were served and smiled.

She stepped back as someone bumped into her, hard. A head full of sun-colored hair met her eyes.

“I am so sorry!” The woman before her apologized. She held a basket of goods.

Lexa stared at her. It was the woman with eyes like the sky.

“Apologies should be mine.” Lexa replied.

The woman looked up at her. She blushed as their eyes met.

“I-,” the woman started.

“Clarke!” the dark-haired and dark-skinned woman that had accompanied her as she settled west called her from another stall.

The woman, Clarke turned to her.

“I’ll be there, Raven!” She shouted back.

“Right. I’m Clarke.” She held her hand out to Lexa. Lexa looked down at the hand and slowly took it.

Awkwardly the two women gazed into one another’s eyes. Green held blue like earth meeting sky.

“And you are?” Clarke prodded after Lexa was silent for a beat too long.

Lexa shook herself out of her thoughts.

“Oh, I’m Lexa.” She replied shyly.

“Lexa. I like it.” Clarke nodded.

“I have to go. I hope I see you around, Lexa.” Clarke told her. She let her hand go. Lexa watched her walk away. She took a breath.

“You are in such trouble.”

Lexa jumped.

“Anya!” She turned to see the woman watching her with interest.

Anya shook her head.

“They call that hair color blonde, the settlers do.” She told Lexa.

“Blonde.” Lexa let the word roll off her tongue.

Anya nodded.

“Walk with me.” She commanded. She moved through the crowd as Lexa followed. Anya led them toward the food vendors. She paid for two skewers of meat, handing one off to Lexa.

“Heard you killed a wolf today.” She stated.

“I did.” Lexa acquiesced.

“Lincoln left it with the skinners. It’ll be ready for you when you want to pick it up.” Anya told Lexa.

“I had hoped you would come see me after your mission today. I gather from the full payment the handlers received, that you were successful?” Anya asked.

Lexa nodded. Her mouth was full of food. She swallowed.

“Little girl. Lost in woods. Wolf had her cornered.” She shrugged.

Anya nodded.

“Be careful with those settlers.” Anya warned.

Lexa glanced at her friend then.

Anya gave her a knowing look.

Lexa rolled her eyes.

“I know what I’m doing, Anya.” She muttered.

“Do you?” Anya pushed.

Lexa grit her teeth.

“I learned my lesson after Costia, Anya. I’ll be fine.” She growled.

“I hope so.” Anya answered.

Lexa glared at her friend and commander. Anya oversaw the scouting groups within the fort. She had known Lexa her whole life and trained her.

“I only say because I care Lexa.” Anya told her quietly.

Lexa sighed. “I know you do.”

They finished their meal in silence. Anya excused herself to finish scouting reports.

Lexa continued her browsing, stopping to buy herself some juice to refill her canteen. She was stopped as she passed by the tavern by a drunkard.

“Half-breed.” The drunk grabbed her arm and spun her around.

Lexa glared at the man.

“Eh, a female half-breed!” He grinned. He was missing teeth.

Lexa clenched her fists. She wore clothing that was a mixture of the men of her people and the men of the fort. It was better suited for her work and better suited for herself.

Lexa could see why this man was missing teeth if this was normal behavior for him. He was going to be missing more if he didn’t let her go soon.

“Let. Me. Go.” She seethed dangerously.

The drunkard tightened his grip.

“What was that, half-breed?” He taunted.

Lexa readied her stance. She prepared herself.

“I said, Let. Me. Go.” She growled.

“Hey! The lady said let her go, let her go!” A voice called out from the tavern.

The woman with sun-colored hair, -Clarke? Burst out of the tavern, the dark haired woman right behind her.

“Ain’t none of your business what’s going on here, blondie.” The drunkard stated.

Clarke growled at him. Lexa took the opportunity of this distraction. She grabbed the wrist of his arm that he grabbed her with and twisted his arm up behind him, forcing him to let go of her arm. He howled in pain.

“I think you should probably go home.” Lexa told the man. She pushed him and he landed on the ground in an undignified heap.

“Well, Clarke, looks like she didn’t need our help much at all.” The dark-haired woman told the blond.

Clarke glared at her friend and crossed her arms.

“Of course she did. I made a great distraction.” She grinned at Lexa. Lexa’s ears went red.

Clarke and Lexa eyed one another again. Something kept drawing the two women to each other.

The dark-haired woman grabbed her friend and pulled at her.

“Come on Clarke, let’s have another round!” she whined.

“Go on, Raven, I’ll join you in a bit.” Clarke ushered her friend on. Raven rolled her eyes and went inside.

Clarke turned to Lexa.

“She’s just excited. She enjoys free drinks from the men whenever she can.” Clarke told Lexa.

Lexa just nodded her agreement. She didn’t know how to act around this woman that had caught her attention so thoroughly.

“Join us?” She offered.

“I-,” Lexa hesitated.

“Please?” Clarke begged.

“Sure.” Lexa gave in. The tavern made allowances for the fort’s scouts. The Pawnee might not be allowed in, but Lexa and the rest of the scouts were regularly seen around the fort and well known. If anyone objected, they could take it up with the fort’s command.

She followed Clarke into the noisy tavern. People yelled and the smell of drink filled the air. Lexa wasn’t one to indulge nor were any likely to buy her drinks. Settlers didn’t usually take to half-bloods like her. Particularly peculiar ones that dressed and acted like men.

Clarke led her over to a table where her friend Raven sat with a dark-haired man and woman.

“Raven, let me introduce Lexa, Lexa, these are Raven, Octavia, and Bellamy.” She made the introductions.

Lexa nodded stoically. Bellamy sized her up like he might a possible threat while Octavia smiled and gave her kind welcome. Raven lifted her drink.

Clarke pulled out a chair and offered Lexa a seat. Lexa took it.

“Lexa, what do you do around here?” Clarke asked curiously.

Lexa ran a hand through her hair.

“I’m a scout for the fort.” She shrugged.

“Really? Is that why you were following us when we first got here?” Bellamy shot.

Lexa glanced at him surprised. She didn’t realize he had noticed her scouts.

“The fort has me follow new settlers to ensure they make it to their land and they get through their first night.” Lexa told him without any offence to his hostility.

Clarke tilted her head. She widened her eyes in realization.

“It was you I heard in the trees that first night on my land!” She recognized.

Lexa grinned sheepishly.

“I maybe slipped.” She confessed.

Clarke shook her head.

“Thanks for keeping an eye on me.” She teased.

Lexa bit her lip shyly. She stood.

“What do you drink?” Lexa wanted to know.

Clarke pretended to think about it.

“Bourbon.”

Lexa made her way over to the bar to buy the drinks. She thought about the feelings she was having as she ordered her drinks. The light fluttering in her stomach. The warmth in her chest, the tingling in her skin. She wanted to get to know this Clarke better.

She took the drinks back to the table and sat down next to Clarke.

Clarke toasted her.

“To watching out for friends.” She teased.

Lexa grinned. They threw back their drinks.

Lexa woke up to a terrible headache the next day, but she smiled all the same.


	3. Chapter 3

****

**LATE MAY 1863**

Weeks passed after their night out in the tavern. Lexa wasn’t far from Clarke’s mind though she had not seen her since. She and Raven had been busy increasing the crops on the farm, tilling, sowing and planting.

The Blake family helped them out. Bellamy, chopping wood, selling his labor to buy the materials he needed began to build a proper house for him and his sister. He helped on building the foundation of a home for Clarke and Raven.

When Bellamy wasn’t out working on another farm, he was fishing and hunting for food to add to their stores. He traded with Clarke and Raven for milk and they in turn fileted and skinned the meat for him. They also tanned the skins of his kills, which he would later take into the fort town to trade for goods they may need. He even bought out a butter churn for Clarke to use and a new cow.

The chicken coop the man built held 6 chickens and a single rooster. Raven had laughed for an entire day when Clarke had been woken up by the thing making its morning call directly to her face.

“Bet that’s not the only time you’ve ever woken up to a face full of cock!” Raven had teased her all morning while Clarke blushed. Their years living together left no secrets about their “sleeping” partners. Though Clarke did indeed take a man a time or two into her bed, she didn’t keep them for long. A woman was more likely to be a frequent visitor, but only until Clarke felt too smothered and pushed her away. Raven herself had similar habits and it was why they worked out so well living together. They didn’t judge the other for how they lived.

It was something they needed when there were people out there that thought a woman’s only place was to marry, have children and tend to the home. Clarke and Raven wanted more for themselves and it was why they were determined to make this move West work.

Clarke worked the soil as the sun beat down on her. Raven was over at the Blake’s helping Octavia put up a fence. Bellamy had gone into town, helping a farmer move some of his animals to the fort so he could put them up for sale.

She stood and stretched sore muscles and brushed golden hair behind an ear. Her eyes caught on movement on the horizon. Three people approached, all dark-haired, tanned skin.

Squinting, Clarke held a hand over her eyes to get a better look. She was sure one of them was Bellamy. A small, squirming bundle was held in his arms.

The other two, Clarke realized had to be scouts from the fort. They carried bundles over their shoulders.

One of them was Lexa. Clarke felt her heart clench as they moved closer. The woman’s brown hair pulled back into a tail. She held her head proudly as she walked, her shoulders strong as the trio made their way towards Clarke.

Green eyes met Clarke’s own blue ones. She released the breath she didn’t even realize she was holding.

“Clarke.” Lexa enunciated the ‘K’ in her name in such a way that made Clarke want her to say it again and again. Maybe she could make that happen.

“Lexa.” Clarke cleared her throat. Her voice squeaking on the ‘ah’ in Lexa’s name. She was nervous.

Lexa ducked her head and looked to Bellamy.

Bellamy, watching the two of them with interest, finally spoke up.

“The farmer I gave me these rolls of cloth. I thought I could give you and Raven a roll to use as you like.” He looked down at the furry bundle in his hands which popped its head up within his arms.

“Is that a puppy?” Clarke squealed wide-eyed.

Bellamy grinned.

“The farmer, also gave me this little guy for my work. He’s a shepherd mix. Said he came from his own stock and he didn’t mind giving him up to someone that will care for him.” Bellamy told her.

“I figure I want to get some sheep sometime, it will be good to have a dog. He can learn to defend the chickens for now.” He rubbed his hand over the pup’s head. It panted in his arms happily.

Clarke held back a chuckle. To see the normally gruff and distrusting man handle a puppy so lovingly was a strange and adorable sight.

She glanced at Lexa and her breath caught to see the woman eyeing her steadily. Warmth flooded her skin. She bit her lip and tilted her head coyly, catching Lexa’s gaze, silently flirting with the woman.

Lexa glanced away then turned back, holding her eyes steadily. Clarke had a feeling this was the kind of woman that would ravage her against a tree given a chance. She shivered despite the warmth of spring.

The corner of Lexa’s mouth curled.

The man accompanying Lexa cleared his throat. His head was shaved and he bore tattoos on his bare shoulders. He, like Lexa looked to be half-Indian. He wore trousers that looked similar to what the fort soldiers wore with a thick, heavy cloth wrapped around his hips. His chest was bare. He carried a pack over one shoulder and bore a roll of cloth the same as Lexa.

“Clarke, this is Lincoln.” Lexa made the introductions as she remembered the man that had followed her on this trip. He usually accompanied her on any scouting trips she made, seeing it as his duty to be her protector as her second in command.

Clarke gave him a small nod. She was slightly intimidated by the tattoos covering his skin and the way he held himself. He seemed alert and as if ready for an attack at any moment.

Lincoln gave her a similar nod in return.

“Lincoln.” Lexa gave him a hand signal. Lincoln nodded. He took the cloth roll from Lexa and walked toward the foundation of the house being worked on. He laid the cloth on a step. He turned and waited.

“Come on Lincoln.” Bellamy beckoned over his shoulder. Lincoln followed with the second roll of cloth thrown over his shoulder.

Clarke turned to Lexa.

“Water?” She asked the woman.

Lexa smiled and gave her a shy nod.

Clarke reached out and boldly took Lexa’s hand. She pulled the woman along to the bucket she kept in the shadows near her wagon so that she could keep it cool. It was boiled early in the morning and she and Raven drank it throughout the day.

Lexa reveled at the feel of the woman’s palm in her hand. It was rough with callouses from farm work, but held a gentle warmth that made her want to feel that hand in other places.

Clarke let go of her hand, and Lexa found that she missed the feel of it already. She watched as Clarke filled two tin cups with water and took one as it was handed to her.

Clarke murmured something that Lexa didn’t quite catch and Lexa found herself asking, “Sorry?”

Clarke blushed.

“I was wondering what brought you out here?” Clarke posed. She ran fingers along the tin she held.

Lexa swallowed. She looked away as she felt herself get hot. Did she really want to confess why she had come out here?

She decided to make a dive.

“I saw Bellamy at the fort and thought he might make his way back out here. He…” Lexa refused to meet Clarke’s eyes, focusing on the woman’s fingers as they still played with cup she held.

“He has told me to come out here before and see the farms. This time I took him up when he said something.” Lexa confessed.

Clarke smiled.

“Is there any particular reason you might want to come out here?” She breathed.

Lexa held her gaze as she said it, “I think you know the answer, Clarke.”

The cup Clarke held fell from her fingers. Water splashed the ends of Clarke’s trousers. Lexa bent down to pick the cup up. Clarke took it from her with trembling fingers. She turned away to wipe the cup with a cloth and dropped it into a crate for cleaning later.

“Lexa-,”

“Clarke-,”

Both women began. Blue eyes held green and Lexa cupped Clarke’s cheek. She smoothed a thumb along the side of her face and felt awe at being able to touch this woman that had caught her from the moment she had seen her at the fort.

“I want to get to know you, Clarke.” Lexa whispered.

Clarke, very nearly leaning into the touch jerked back, her eyes wide. She searched Lexa’s eyes, her face, her mouth before leaning into the woman’s space, just a hair’s breadth away.

“Then know me, Lexa.” Clarke answered.

Lexa pressed her lips to Clarke’s and felt as if Sun were burning through her soul as their lips touched. She wanted to feel Clarke like sky meets earth. She tugged at the woman’s blouse and felt her moan against her lips.

Breathlessly, they pulled away. Their eyes had darkened considerably.

“Stay.” Clarke gripped Lexa’s shirt in her hands. Lexa felt a tugging in her chest.

“Clarke.” Lexa said warningly. She had a feeling if she stayed she may not be able to contain herself.

Clarke laid her head against her chest. A wave of protectiveness washed over Lexa. She wrapped her arms around the shorter woman and ran fingers through golden locks.

“Okay Clarke. I will stay, but we sleep separately.” Lexa consented.

“I really want to get to know you first.” She whispered.

Clarke leaned back and gave her a small, knowing smile.

She pulled away and walked away, an extra sway to her hips. Lexa sighed at the sight.

Clarke might be harder to resist than she thought.

 

That night, they ate a meal of fish cooked by the fire they sat around. Bellamy chatted with Lincoln over hunting techniques while Octavia eyed the tattooed man from across the fire. She seemed intrigued by him. Lexa had even caught the girl tracing his tattoos with her eyes.

Lexa nudged Clarke, seated next to her near the fire pit. She indicated the younger girl and Clarke shook her head.

“Bellamy is not gonna like that.” She remarked into her plate. She nudged Raven next to her and whispered into her ear. The woman laughed, “uh-oh” barely audible from her side of Clarke.

Lexa looked at Clarke questioningly.

“Is Bellamy-?” She asked.

Clarke shook her head.

“It’s not so much that he’s part Indian… I’m pretty sure they might have some. I think it’s more that he’s overprotective.” Clarke spoke softly into Lexa’s ear, leaning into her space. Lexa shivered at the feeling.

Clarke pressed a light kiss against her cheek. She had been teasing Lexa with light touches and caresses all night. Lexa knew it to be a tactic to get her to break her rule of not sleeping together that night but Lexa wasn’t giving in so easily.

Two could play that game.

Lexa ran a discreet hand down Clarke’s back. Clarke bowed against the touch. She bit her lip.

“I’m off to bed.” Raven hopped up from her seat. She not-so-subtly leaned over and winked at Clarke and Lexa.

“I’ll sleep in a tent out on the foundations if you two gals decide you want to get frisky.” She told the two of them barely audibly.

Lexa covered her face as Clarke laughed. Raven left to get ready for the night. Bellamy eventually excused himself, taking Octavia’s all-too curious eyes away from Lincoln.

“I’ll take first watch.” Lincoln stated. He walked away from the fire, giving Lexa a knowing look. Lexa shook her head.

“We are so obvious.” She turned to Clarke.

Clarke, watching her the entire time, launched herself at the other woman.

She wrapped her arms around Lexa’s shoulders. Her heated lips pressed against Lexa’s causing the woman to moan. Clarke seized the opportunity to slide her tongue past plump lips and delved into her mouth. Lexa’s moans grew deeper. She welcomed the muscle into her mouth, sucking on it, drawing a withered cry from Clarke.

Clarke ground down into Lexa’s lap. Lexa froze. She pulled away, stilling Clarke’s hips with her hands.

“Clarke.” Lexa took deep breaths, attempting to cool down.

“Slow down.”

She cupped Clarke’s jaw, pulling her eyes up to meet her own. Clarke, like her, breathed heavily. Lexa wondered if the other woman’s heart thundered in her chest like her own.

Clarke looked away.

“I-,” Clarke stopped.

“It’s been so long since anyone’s touched me, Lexa. I’m sorry.” Clarke looked sheepish.

Lexa pushed golden locks out of Clarke’s face.

“All will be well, Clarke, give it time.” She reassured her.

Lexa stood.

She held a hand out to Clarke.

“Come Clarke.”

Clarke eyed the hand.

“But I thought you said…” she looked up at Lexa questioningly.

Lexa smiled.

“We will sleep together. Only sleep, Clarke. I will hold you.” Lexa told her.

Clarke grinned. She took Lexa’s hand. She let the other woman pull her up and lead her toward the temporary shelter that she and Raven lived in.

Lexa pulled off her trousers and left on the shirt she wore during the day and slid over to the makeshift bed of blankets and furs Clarke slept in. She waited while Clarke changed.

Clarke slid in beside her. Lexa wrapped her arms around the woman. Clarke sighed at the strength of her wrapped around her.

“Thank you, Lexa.” She whispered.

Lexa pressed lips to her neck.

“I’m here Clarke.” She promised.

She hoped to stay again soon.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a note: white historians tend to alter tribal history.
> 
> They never ever mention that many Native tribes viewed genderqueerness or homosexuality as natural. In fact, if it was noted that a child may just have a gender preference of the same gender, they were usually raised as the opposite and rather than forced into a role that didn't suit them, put into a role that may suit them better.
> 
> Interestingly when I came out there was zero problems from my entirely Native American family. Many times if there is a problem with homosexuality in a native family, it is because they have been warped by Westboro-type Christian values.

JUNE/JULY 1863  
The farm was faring well. With the occasional help of Lincoln and Lexa, Clarke and Raven were able to erect permanent walls on the foundation of their home and Bellamy helped them to put up a roof over their heads.

Bellamy bought sheep and in exchange for the two women offering their land up as grazing space for his herd he agreed to give them wool from their shearings. Octavia with the help of the pup they named Fish, tended to the herd throughout the day.

Lincoln would visit from time to time, taking Bellamy out to teach him how to hunt “the Pawnee way”. They would return in the evening and Bellamy would allow the man to stay and they would share in a meal made from whatever they had caught and skin, smoke, and dry the rest.

Lexa had only been able to stay with Clarke four times, (not that either of them had been counting.) since that first night. Scouting excursions for the fort kept her busy.

Clarke had asked her one night what exactly it was she did, scouting. Reluctantly, Lexa had answered. Watch over other settlers, carry messages to the Pawnee villages, help when settlers were attacked. 

When Clarke pressed about these attacks and what exactly settlers would need protecting from, Lexa had been hesitant to answer. She didn't want Clarke to know how truly dangerous her work could sometimes get.

“Sometimes, the Lakota, or Sioux as your people call them attack settlers. Sometimes, other tribes attack. Sometimes bandits, outcasts of white men steal from other white men. The fort sometimes asks Pawnee to help. Scouts work to help track other tribes. We know the difference between an attack from a white man and an Indian.” Lexa had explained.

Clarke had watched the shadows play over Lexa’s face the entire time as she said these things.

“What happens if it’s an attack by a tribe? What do the scouts do?” Clarke asked, almost afraid for the answer.

“Kill other Indians.” Lexa declared softly. She sounded almost conflicted as she said it. As though the action of doing so haunted her. 

Clarke had noticed it the first night. The way Lexa twitched, writhed, crying out in her sleep, as if ghosts haunted her dreams. As if demons were chasing her in the night. Clarke had soothed her their third night after the woman woke up in a cold sweat. Her eyes widened from a nightmare.

How many had Lexa killed for the fort? Clarke wondered. For it to haunt her so? And could their be more that was haunting her than killing other tribes? Clarke felt her heart clench at the thought. She could only wrap her arms tighter around the woman and whisper sweet words into her ear until she fell back into a peaceful slumber, held within the blonde’s gentle embrace.

The fourth night Lexa stayed, she had come in the middle of the night. She had slipped in through the shadows, breaking in through Clarke’s window, open against the summer’s heat. 

She was caked in dirt, sweat and something dark.

Clarke, startled awake by the softest of thuds had nearly screamed to find an intruder in her room. Lexa placed a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. 

Long moments passed before Clarke’s heartbeat and breathing slowed as she realized who stood before her in the sliver of moonlight from the open window. Lexa was dressed heavily like the men of her people. Buckskin leggings and tunic, her feet covered in moccasins. Her hair, braided, bone beads, feathers, and more adorning all she wore. 

She looked fantastic to Clarke. 

Paint covered her cheeks, but something wasn't right. There was dirt and… Something darker in places on the buckskin.

“Is that-?” Clarke began, but was cut off by Lexa pressing her lips against her own. 

She sucked in a breath as she relished the feel of the woman’s lips. Lexa smelled strongly of the buckskin she wore, sweat, and earth, but that sickly sweet, coppery scent underneath only confirmed Clarke’s suspicions about the stains on the buckskin.

She pushed against Lexa’s shoulders. 

“Lexa, you- you aren't hurt, are you?” She searched the woman’s face, her heart quickening with fear.

Lexa dropped her head. She picked at the stain on her buckskin, it hit the moonlight. The darkened maroon showing it to indeed be a bloodstain.

“No Clarke. I am not injured.” Lexa croaked.

Clarke reached out, cupping Lexa’s cheeks. She felt wetness under her fingertips. She lifted the woman’s face. Tears leaked from her eyes. 

Slowly, Clarke climbed out of bed. She kissed Lexa, comfortingly. She lifted the tunic the woman wore, Lexa didn't fight her. When Clarke's fingers met the waist of her leggings, Lexa’s hands touched her own. Clarke pressed her forehead to Lexa’s. 

“We don't have to do anything.” Clarke reassured her. “Let's just get you out of these clothes, they're… Smelly.” 

Lexa gave her a watery smile. She nodded and let go of Clarke's hands, her hands trembled as she helped the woman to pull the buckskin down her muscular legs.  
Clarke lifted her nightgown off, causing a gasp to fall from Lexa’s lips. She pulled the brunette by an arm into her bed and wrapped her arms around her. 

They lay like that for long moments in silence, enjoying the soothing contact of naked skin on skin. 

“I killed so many.” Lexa finally spoke into the darkness.

Clarke, having taken Lexa’s braids out, and running fingers through, to smooth the waves out stopped. She waited until Lexa began to speak again before she continued.

“A small contingent of Cheyenne were attacking some of the northern settlers. Stealing horses, killing cows. We helped some of the fort soldiers track them back to their camp.” Lexa shuddered.

She closed her eyes. 

“They had women. Children, Clarke. I didn't… We killed them all.” Her voice cracked. 

Clarke tugged on Lexa and turned her over in her arms. Lexa began to sob. She shuddered and cried into Clarke’s chest. 

Clarke held her throughout the night until they woke up. Raven had come in and told Clarke she would take care of the farm, even send for Bellamy if she needed any help. She gave Clarke the day off to take care of the broken woman in her arms.

Lexa slept until midday. When she woke, she had traced Clarke's collarbone, and pressed long, passionate kisses to her lips.

She confessed to running all the way to Clarke’s homestead after what they had done. They had just finished reporting to the fort and Lexa couldn't take being there a minute longer. Lexa just needed to escape. The only way she could think of doing that was with Clarke.

Lexa returned to the fort a day later but Clarke was conflicted. Her feelings for Lexa were growing deep. In their world, two women couldn't be together, not like a man and a woman could. Clarke felt torn. 

She had already decided a long time ago, she would rather be alone, than not have the life she wanted if the world refused to let her have it in peace. 

 

The Fourth of July was supposed to be a day of celebration. The fort was indeed decked out for one.

Clarke, the Blake family and Raven had come to the fort for the events to mark the celebration of America’s Declaration of their Freedom. The soldiers were dressed in their best uniforms, their commands all walking around, entertainment having been hired out for this day.

Food vendors and stalls filled with bright little toys for children were everywhere. Games to win prizes laid out. Raven, ever the child, ran off with Octavia, glee written all over their faces. 

Bellamy, gruff, despite having a fluffy dog tailing him, bought a bit of food and walked around. He surveyed the area with a surly eye. 

“Clarke.” Someone whispered into the blonde’s ear.

Clarke jumped and whirled around.

She stared at the woman who stood before her in surprise. Lexa wore a dress for once. 

Clarke’s eyes widened while Lexa looked her up and down. Clarke had bought a new dress just for this occasion, but just seeing Lexa in a dress was unbelievable. 

Lexa gave her a wide smile.

“See something you like, Clarke?” She asked. 

Clarke drew out a kerchief and dabbed at the sweat she could feel pooling at her throat. The temperature always seemed to increase around Lexa.

She smirked.

“You could say that.”

Lexa laughed. They both chuckled and Lexa joined her side. 

“I had hoped you would come out today.” Lexa told Clarke.

Clarke, watching folks, some dancing, some sitting on benches, chatting, eating, others, strolling around, all without a care for once, glanced at Lexa. Lexa’s eyes held something. Something Clarke wasn't quite sure she was ready for. She blushed and looked away.

“I had to, there was no way Raven was letting me stay in today.” Clarke replied. 

“Clarke.” Lexa said, her voice said her name in such a way it made Clarke both want to run, and to have the woman seize her and take her in the nearest alley at the same time.

“Lexa, please.” Clarke pleaded. She felt hot, her heart beat wildly in her chest. She tugged at the neckline of her dress. It was getting much too hot, much too quickly.

A hand reached out to grasp her shoulder, Lexa’s hands, Clarke had the ability to recognize, before she got too dizzy and everything went promptly dark. 

Clarke woke up some time later in her own home. 

Someone pressed a wetted cloth to her head. 

She groaned. 

“Shhh.” Lexa hushed her. 

Clarke licked her lips.

“What happened?” She croaked past dry lips.

“You have a fever.” Lexa told her softly. She left the cloth on Clarke’s head, fumbling around until she held a cup in her hands.

“Drink.” She ordered, as she held the cup to Clarke's lips.

Clarke sniffed the liquid. It smelled wickedly strong.

“What is it?” She asked Lexa distrustfully.

Lexa glared at her.

“It's a mixture made by Pawnee for fevers. It will help. Now drink.” Lexa pressed the lip of the cup against Clarke's mouth.

Clarke sighed. She lifted heavy arms and took the cup. She downed the liquid.

It was heady, dark, and made her stomach roil. She gagged. Then she swallowed down more. 

Lexa followed the strange mixture up with water. Clarke took it gratefully. She felt dryer than wood. 

Clarke watched Lexa move around her room.

“Thank you.” She pushed past a thick tongue.

Lexa sat on the edge of the bed. She caressed Clarke's hair. 

“You've been out for a whole day.” Lexa informed her. 

Clarke groaned.

“Now I owe Raven two days off!” She whined. Lexa chuckled.

“Well, when you want to pay Raven back let me know, I would be happy to join in helping.” Lexa promised.

Clarke eyed the woman as she prepped what looked to be soup. 

“I may just take you up on that,” Clarke agreed.

Clarke laid back as Lexa brought her a bowl and a spoon. She took the offered food. They both ate, and Clarke felt satisfaction bubble over her. It was good and obviously something made by Lexa’s people. 

She may just have to keep Lexa.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, Natives used sign language to communicate between tribes. They also used it with one another to communicate silently rather than shouting orders.

**AUGUST 1863**

It grew hotter as summer wore into its later months. Lexa, a squad of scouts accompanying her, passed through Clarke’s land, warning her of grassfires to the south.

She had ridden in on horse, the scouts, many of which were like Lexa, half-bloods, the lot of them intimidating in their mixture of soldier’s and Pawnee garb. Tattoos adorned the arms of some, paint decorated the faces of others. Lexa was the only one not wearing paint and her clothing was more of the soldiers than of her people. They waited as Lexa slid off the back of her horse, speaking to Clarke.

She showed Clarke what to do, should a fire occur, and then pointed southward, in the distance, men could be seen working, building something.

“It is a bell. Should you see smoke, ring it.” Lexa told her. “The nearest patrol will come if they are close.”

Clarke, having only seen Lexa twice since her illness struck, pulled her into the shadows of her home.

She wrapped arms around Lexa’s neck.

“Thanks for looking out for me.” She told the taller woman, before pulling her down for a deep kiss.

Lexa marveled at the feel of this woman. She wished she could stay, however, her duties meant that she must continue to move onward, warning other farms of the possible dangers.

Lexa pulled back, touching her head to Clarke’s.

“I must go.” She whispered regretfully.

Clarke nodded, solemn. She kissed the skin just below Lexa’s jaw before releasing her.

She hated to let her go.

Lexa mounted her horse and with a signal of her hand, the other scouts accompanying her moved forward.

She waited until they passed, giving Clarke one last, lingering look, her eyes longing. Clarke watched her follow her scouts. The imagery of them, riding bareback into the horizon clinging to her mind.

A thought came to her then, a desire she had not held for some time and she hurried toward the Blake farm to fetch Raven.

 

Two days after Lexa had left with her scouting group, Clarke enjoyed a moment of laziness, sitting outside of her home. A bound, paper book, laid open in her lap.

Clarke fingered the charcoal in her hand. She had not sketched in a long time. Not since...

Clarke sighed. She concentrated on the paper before her, knowing the image she wished to place on its pages. The image of the woman she was falling for and the scouts as they rode away from her.

She pressed charcoal to the page and began the first lines of her sketch.

It did not take long for her to become frustrated, as she could not quite get the image right.

She stared out onto her farm and eyed the land before her, losing herself to her thoughts.

She had not drawn in so long because it had been something she had enjoyed in the days when she had a father. The days before her mother betrayed him so that she could continue her comfortable lifestyle. Clarke had not held charcoal and paper in so long, because the only piece of her father she had carried with her when she left home, had been his shotgun.

She had held a shotgun, and been intent on survival for so long, on finding her own way that she had not taken time to truly enjoy herself.

She brushed fingers over the charcoal in her hand, black flaking away over her fingertips. She only needed to recapture that feeling. That moment when she had watched Lexa, riding away.

The image formed on the paper as she began to sketch again. It was the longing in Lexa’s eyes, the longing Clarke had felt, watching her ride away that brought the image back to her.

She felt breathless at realizing, she finally loved someone enough to miss them when they left her like Lexa did.

The image completed, Clarke leaned back, satisfied.

Shouts broke her out of her enjoyment.

“Clarke!” Raven ran from the fields, waving the hat she wore when working under the hot sun.

Clarke looked up.

“Raven?” She closed and hurriedly packed the sketchbook and charcoal into the small pack she had bought with it when she had gone into town to purchase them.

Raven’s expression was one of widened fear.

“Hurry, Clarke!” She called, she ran towards the Blake farm.

Clarke followed after her, her mind curious and wondering why her friend ran as if being chased by wild animals.

Then she saw it.

Smoke, not far to the north.

Clarke quickened her pace, heading straight for the tool shed where they kept the shovel and hoes.

She grabbed what she would need and ran to the northern edge of her farm and began to dig. Raven and Bellamy soon joined her.

“Octavia?” Clarke asked, slightly out of breath from the effort of preparing their land against the oncoming smoke.

“Sent. Her. To. Ring. Bell.” Bellamy huffed as he dug a hoe into the earth, pulling up earth and turning it, building a strip of bare earth against the oncoming fire.

They made their way along the northern edges of both the Blake farm, and Clarke and Raven’s farm. A strip of bare earth, a shallow ditch, bordered by the dug up dirt to aid against the oncoming danger.

It was not long before Clarke saw a group of scouts, Lexa’s scouts riding past her land.

“Lexa!” Clarke called she ran to catch the woman.

Why would they be riding toward the fire?

Smoke reached her nostrils, her throat and made her eyes stream. Clarke coughed.

“Clarke!” Lexa paused momentarily, her horse whinnied and snorted below her its nose and mouth covered with a cloth. Lexa too, wore a cloth over the lower half of her face.

“You must not stay.” She warned Clarke. “Go, toward the bell, there are others there, they are building a camp to help those whose farms are affected by the fire.”

Clarke hesitated.

“But… What about you?” Clarke ached. The danger was north and Lexa was riding right into it.

Lexa shook her head, sadly.

“I must ensure the safety of some of the settlers to the north.” Lexa answered.

“Go. Now.” She ordered, her voice stronger.

Clarke gave Lexa one more, lingering gaze.

“Come back to me.” She called to Lexa as the woman turned away.

Lexa’s only reply was to nod.

Clarke found Bellamy and Raven, Octavia having returned to the farm. They gathered the two horses they had and Fish.

“What about the sheep?” Octavia was the one to broach the subject.

Bellamy coughed. Smoke was growing thicker. The fire was getting closer.

“We don’t have a choice.” He stated. “We leave them.”

It was Clarke that suggested they leave the southern gate open so that if the fires reached their farms, the sheep could at least escape.

They could always recapture them later.

 

Northward, Lexa regretted leaving Clarke. She regretted it every time she had to do it. She commanded her scouts to move in a line, the smoke obscuring their view in some places. The poured water over the cloth tied over the lower part of her face. They would need to be careful about the smoke and heat.

A farm on fire, the settlers clearly already having abandoned their home. Cows, chickens, pigs ran amok, the fields were afire. The screams of animals met their ears as they were eaten up by the blaze. Lexa signaled to her scouts.

They rode along the edge of the fire until they found a group of settlers needing their help.

The foolish ones were attempting to save their cattle, rather than their own lives.

Lexa yelled at them to abandon the animals. The fire was approaching quickly, as evidenced by the thickening smoke.

“Lexa!” Lincoln, he indicated the blaze.

Lexa shouted. She signaled her people.

“Leave now, or die!” She told the settlers.

Seeing now, the approaching blaze their eyes widened. They abandoned their animals and began to run.

It became apparent soon as she and her scouts made the choice to escort the settlers toward the bell that they would not be fast enough. She signaled them and each of the scouts scooped up a settler across the back of their horse. Some of them struggled, not at all ready for the surprise of being grabbed up as they had been. Others downright fought, until they realized the intent of the riders.

It was Lexa’s misfortune that she had gotten the worst of the settlers. A teen that was clearly mistrusting of even a half-blood. He knocked her off her horse as he struggled against her. The boy was strong, just beyond being a man.

Her horse, frightened of the flames moving closer with each passing breath galloped away.

She coughed, attempting to stand. Her eyes streamed as she got her bearings.

The boy had hit his head in the fall. Lexa staggered to him. It had been a long time since she had been knocked from a horse.

With great effort, she lifted the boy and threw his arm over her shoulders. He grunted, his head lolled.

She huffed as she pressed forward. He was heavy and she was not sure if they were going to make it if he did not wake soon.

His feet eventually began to make an effort of their own. Lexa realized he was awake and they made greater progress. He was weakened by his fall and still held on to her side, but she pushed forward.

Hands gripped her and pulled her away from the boy. She struggled until she recognized Anya.

She relaxed. She allowed herself to be pulled onto the woman’s horse and carried away.

 

Lexa, dizzy, hot and barely conscious only remembered reaching the camp around the bell in flashes.

Hands seized her, caught her as she fell from the horse. She was carried and laid onto a temporary cot in a tent.

Blonde curls met her vision.

Arguing. Then blue eyes. Someone poured a thick gooey liquid down her throat which she promptly hacked, coughed and threw up.

Soothing words. Calloused hands caressing her face and she gave in to sleep.

Lexa woke up not long later.

The tickling at her arm brought her attention to the blonde beside her. Lexa felt warmth spread across her chest.

“Cl-ke.” She croaked. She coughed. Her throat was raw, probably from all of the smoke she had breathed in.

Hands, Clarke’s hands held a cup to her mouth. Lexa drank gratefully.

“Don’t try to talk.” Clarke told her softly. Her eyes flickered over Lexa’s, before she turned away, setting the cup down. She reached out and brushed a hair behind Lexa’s ear.

“Looks like we are always taking care of one another.” The smile Clarke gave Lexa trembled.

Lexa frowned. She reached to brush the tear that fell from Clarke’s eye. Lexa waited.

“I was so afraid, Lexa.” Clarke confessed. She ran hurried eyes around the darkness of the tent. All others seemed to be sleeping. Cautiously, Clarke leaned forward and pressed her lips to Lexa’s.

“I know I can’t ask you to stop.” Clarke said as she pulled away.

“Can I at least ask you to do all you can to come home?” She pleaded.

Lexa nodded, weakly. She pulled Clarke to her and held her. She would do anything for this woman.

 

The next day Clarke took Lexa home with her. Lexa stayed in bed while Clarke worked with Bellamy to herd sheep. A number of them had escaped in the chaos, while others ran freely across their lands. Raven had volunteered to work with some of the other settlers as they cleaned up after the fire. Octavia tended to the crops with Lincoln. Though Clarke had a suspicion they were sneaking off in the middle of their work.

Clarke, Octavia and Lincoln each took turns checking in on Lexa. They would chat for a time, bring her water, and thin soup.

Later that evening when Clarke returned, rather than pull on the gown she usually wore to bed, she stripped entirely bare and slipped in beside Lexa, causing the woman to stir awake.

Lexa very aware of Clarke’s state of undress quickly found her mouth glued to Clarke’s.

Clarke wasted no time in stripping Lexa of the gown she had given her to wear while she stayed in bed that day.

The two women gasped as their bodies met. Clarke bucked against Lexa when her thigh brushed her sex, biting back the moan that the sensation involuntarily forced from her body.

Lexa’s hands traced over Clarke’s sides as she moved to hover over the woman. She pressed her thigh into Clarke’s center, causing the moan the woman bit back to fall from her lips. Lexa captured the sound, sliding her tongue through open lips to meet Clarke’s.

Clarke’s moans only rumbled more as Lexa brushed against her. She cupped strong hands below her breasts, running thumbs over Clarke’s pink nipples.

Clarke’s bucking against Lexa’s thigh only increased as she gasped into her mouth. Lexa molded and massaged the flesh beneath her hands until she had Clarke whining.

“Lexaaah.” Clarke breathed, hand cupping the back of Lexa’s neck, she gripped her ass, squeezing.

Clarke pressed lips across Lexa’s jaw until she reached her ear.

Lexa shuddered when the woman bit into the lobe and groaned when she growled, “Touch me. Now.”

Lexa slid a hand down Clarke’s body. She basked at the feel of the woman’s body below her. She stopped for a moment, to splay her fingers over Clarke’s abdomen. Green eyes searched for blue.

“Clarke.” Lexa spoke, her hand hovering just above Clarke’s mound.

Clarke, lost in the sensations provided by Lexa, opened her eyes. Blue eyes seized green.

Lexa’s fingers ghosted over Clarke’s clit. Clarke bucked as Lexa slid fingers through her wetness.

Lexa seized Clarke’s mouth as her fingers found Clarke’s opening. She slid digits through easy slickness. Clarke cried out into her mouth and gripped and ran nails down Lexa’s back. Lexa bowed into the sensation and began to slide her fingers back and forth, her thumb, running over Clarke’s clit.

Clarke’s hips thrust against her hand. Lexa used her thigh to put more force behind her wrist as Clarke’s thrusts increased. She pressed kisses, licks, nips along Clarke’s face. They breathed into one another’s ears as they began to sweat, thrusting and bucking against the other. Clarke lifted a knee until it pressed against Lexa’s own wetness and both women groaned at the feeling.

They writhed in earnest until with a long crying moan, Clarke clutched at Lexa and bowed into her. Lexa continued to rub against Clarke’s thigh as she continued to thrust into Clarke, milking as much of her orgasm as she could out of her.

They collapsed against each other.

Clarke shivered, hearing Lexa’s breathing in her ear. She bucked. She was slick again.

Lexa chuckled into her ear.

“Someone is eager to go again?” Lexa croaked.

Clarke moaned.

“Then we will go until you are satisfied.” Lexa leaned back, promising as she gazed at Clarke.

Clarke seized her in a passionate kiss.

It would be hours before the two of them fell sated into a well-worn slumber.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR’S NOTE: I do not speak Pawnee. (Yet.) And if you ever look up phonetic spelling for Pawnee words, they’re hella long. So when a character is speaking Pawnee to another character or another Native language I will be italicizing their words to show that any English speakers in the conversation may not be understanding what they are saying.  
> (I know like, maybe 20 words in Creek (Muscogee) language which is another of my tribes and ya, I wouldn’t even try spelling those here either. Lmao I’d have to provide an alphabet.)  
> Also, PLEASE REVIEW, I EAT THAT STUFF LIKE CANDY, LIKE, I LOVE IT WHEN YALL DO THAT STUFF, IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY.

**NOVEMBER 1863**

They were getting closer to winter. Raven and Clarke worked hard, harvesting and storing crop.

Lexa’s visits became more frequent. When Clarke asked her one night about it, Lexa explained that many of the tribes were heading toward their winter homes. Their stable grounds, sacred and home to them as the winter months passed.

After the fire the hospital camp became more permanent. Local settlers worked together, adding from their local stores to build it from the ground up. It wasn’t long before they were able to attract a physician to the budding hospital. A dark, bearded man by the name of Nyko.

At first, many of the settlers did not see how he could be any good as a physician. He was rather large and gruff looking. After tending the broken leg of a local settler’s son, the locals doubted him less.

He also proved more worthy when he showed knowledge of tribal medicines. It seemed that he had gone and studied with the local tribes and spent time with them in order to become a better physician.

Lexa paid Raven back for working when Clarke had taken time off while ill or taking care of her by coming to work on the farm for a few days. She helped with the harvest, shearing, and to card wool.

It ended up being more fun than work for the two women. They chased one another across the fields, threw wool at one another, laughed as they tackled the other, kissing each other in the shadows when they thought no one was looking. For once in their lives they both began to feel a kind of comfort.

Clarke began to weave squares for blankets. Winter was getting closer. The air cooled, wind carrying a touch of chill to it as the month grew to a close.

It was as it grew closer to the end of October that the Murphy family moved into the plot just north of their own.

Raven wondered what the hell a family would be doing, moving west in the winter months. They wouldn’t have time to farm anything.

Yet somehow, the Murphy settlement had hands at their settlement within a day of arrival, helping them to build up walls quickly. Raven, Clarke, Lexa, Octavia, Bellamy, and even Lincoln would frequently take turns watching them from afar, attempting to scope out the new neighbors.

Lincoln remarked at the number of hands they had helping them.

Raven noted the hired hands they had arrived with, including the freemen and women that came with them. What were they building?

It was Clarke that pointed out the parts of a possible brewery. The coppery structures, and the pipes apparent to her eyes as they were hurried from multiple wagons into buildings.

A week into being built and a youth leaned on the fence to Clarke and Raven’s property. He looked slightly rough. His hair matted, unclean and a scar across his face. He had large eyes and nose.

It was Raven in the fields that day. She spoke with him.

“What do you want?” She asked him, not at all friendly. The Murphy family had not yet made any effort to be friendly with them yet. If Clarke was correct and a brewery was being erected near their farm, Raven was not sure how to feel about their new neighbors.

The youth leaned over the fence.

“Noticed you gals were growing some wheat.” He remarked.

Raven eyed the field. They would be harvesting that part of the field the next day.

“Yeah, what of it?” She shrugged. She waited. She crossed her arms.

“My dad wants to make a deal.” He told Raven. He didn’t seem at all threatened by her attitude. It seemed he was used to people reacting to him the way Raven was.

Raven eyed him warily.

“Right. You haven’t even introduced yourself and you want to make deals?”

The youth picked at a hole in his shirt.

“John. John Murphy.” He met Raven’s eyes briefly.

Raven nodded.

“Raven.”

“The deal. Dad wants wheat. He’ll trade you for a cut of his profits.” John promised her.

“Profits of?” Raven prodded.

John raised a brow at her in disbelief.

“I think you know.” He stated.

Raven frowned. Clarke had been right. She shook her head.

“I’ll think it over. Let me talk to my partner.” Raven told John. She didn’t want to give him an answer straight away. Breweries weren’t too problematic, but when it came down to profits, the better breweries could attract trouble. Not to mention robberies from desperate drunks. They sometimes had to be guarded.

John nodded.

“I’ll give you until tomorrow evening. He’ll want an answer by then.” He informed her. He walked away.

Raven found Clarke inside of their home. She weaved squares of wool together, structuring them into a larger piece.

“Neighbors want wheat for their brewery.” Raven informed her friend.

Clarke looked up from the work in her hands.

“Figured it wouldn’t be long before they approached us.” She said. She focused on blanket forming in her hands.

“What do you think?” Raven asked.

“I think you should ask for protection. Whichever farm supplies them that is nearest will be the easiest targets. Even if we didn’t supply, folks would assume we did.” Clark murmured over her wool.

Raven rubbed her face.

“Why does it have to get complicated?” She whined. “I thought I escaped the tavern life?”

Clarke chuckled.

“The tavern life found you.”

They accepted a deal the next day from the Murphy settlement. John returned later that evening with a freewoman.

“This is Indra.” He introduced the dark-skinned woman accompanying him. “She will be your guard. Her son, Nick will alternate with her.”

Indra eyed the two women from the fence post. She was surly in her demeanor.

“I’ll give you the tour.” Raven offered.

Indra regarding her silently, gave her a grunt of agreement. She followed Raven as the woman led her around the farm.

Two weeks later, the Murphys not only had not a house, but two storehouses, and barn-like structure. The brewery took the wheat Raven and Clarke harvested. They worked immediately to begin brewing up their first batch.

Mid-November, Lexa arrived as frost touched the lands around them. The nights were growing cold. Clarke had made trades for oils and fats, purchasing lanterns with the profits from the brewery and blanket-weaving. She drew in her downtime. Raven spent much of her time at the Murphy brewery. Her knowledge from working in her father’s tavern came in handy with brews the Murphys were attempting to put together.

Raven for some reason, had also seemed to take an odd liking to Murphy. Something Clarke had yet to understand. Perhaps it was his general rough nature. Raven herself could be a bit rough around the edges. Clarke didn’t judge. If it made her friend happy, then her business was her own.

Lexa, meanwhile, had given her a gift of paints. Paints made by her own people. Lexa showed her how to use them. How to mix them and to paint the colors onto the skins of animals during one of her visits. She gave Clarke a gift of skins and paper to paint on, and paintbrushes made of horsehair.

One night, as she visited, Clarke asked her about her name.

Lexa had paused then. She hesitated to tell Clarke the truth.

“Lexa is the name I give when I am amongst your people.” She had told her, softly. “It is a name my mother gave me. The Pawnee do not usually give their children names at birth, waiting until one has found the child. My mother… she was white, and not used to Pawnee ways, and called me Lexa when none were listening.”

Clarke watching her, slid fingers along her bare arms. She waited.

“My name amongst the Pawnee is Man of Earth, Sees the Sky, in your language.” Lexa told her.

“Man of Earth, Sees the Sky?” Clarke repeated.

Lexa nodded. She leaned back, comforted in Clarke’s arms.

“Why Man of Earth?” Clarke wondered.

Lexa shifted. This wasn’t a topic she knew how to broach. Not with… Not with someone like Clarke.

Lexa refused to meet Clarke’s eyes.

“When I was a child, it was quickly noticed by my father, that perhaps, I was more of a son than a daughter. Rather than raise me as his daughter, he raised me as his son.” Lexa murmured.

“It is why I wear men’s clothing.”

Clarke understood. Men’s clothing was more comfortable. Even for farm work. She wore it sometimes. But she still defaulted to the dress, skirt, blouse, apron, expected of a woman. Particularly when she traveled to the fort. She did not desire the looks she might get should she wear the clothing she wore when she was hard at work in the fields.

Yet Lexa freely wore a soldier’s uniform. She donned a man’s shirt and boots and when it came down to her people, she wore their warrior’s clothing. When it came down to it, Lexa was treated and carried herself very much like a man would.

It sometimes put Clarke in awe of her that Lexa could live in such a way. Yet it also made her fear for her. Men and even women could be threatened by persons such as Lexa.

Lexa nuzzled into Clarke’s neck.

“Clarke?” She drew the woman’s attention from her thoughts.

Clarke smiled into Lexa’s eyes.

“You would not care for me less, if I said, I do not know if I am man, nor woman, nor do I care, would you?” Lexa asked, her voice slightly weak as she spoke.

Clarke caressed her cheek.

“It is your spirit that I found myself drawn to, Lexa, Man of Earth, Seeks the Sky.” Clarke told her honestly. “It would not matter to me, if you were man, woman, or even both, I would be drawn to you in any form.”

Lexa’s eyes lit up. She drew Clarke into a deep, slow kiss. They stayed that way for the night, caressing, holding, and kissing. They took time exploring one another. Their lips pressing into new points, hands squeezing sensitive areas.

It was as they wrapped themselves around one another that Clarke whispered, “I love you.” Into Lexa’s ear.

Lexa felt her heart speed up into oblivion. She held onto the woman tighter.

“I too, love you, Clarke.” She returned the same.

 

Winter would set in. Lexa chose to enjoy the moments of peace she was given while she had it.

It would not be long before it could be taken away.  


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey lot, apologies for the delay, I was researching for the next chapters coming up. I hella watched some westerns and discovered Strange Empire, y’all need to check it out. One season on Netflix but damn, is it masterful. I was also reading up on some family history.  Anyways, I was also conflicted about more fluff or heading into the drama and pain coming up. Well, we’re getting pain. I will post a warning before we get into the triggering stuff.

**March 1864**

Winter was harsh. They had passed the holidays together, John Murphy having joined Clarke, Raven, Lexa, Lincoln and the Blakes as they celebrated. He brought a case of brew with him.

Murphy had put a damper on celebrations when he had noticed Clarke and Lexa in a moment of intimacy in a corner together. He told them that although he did not have any objections to them, some of the men that worked the brewery had noticed them and he had heard their grumbling. He didn’t want to have to hurt any of the men that worked the brewery in defense of the two women, but if it came to it, he would.

Clarke had become more alert around the farm since then and she had noticed Murphy was right. Some of the men that worked his family’s brewery eyed her and Lexa when the woman came around. Some leered and others glared at Lexa in her manly garb.

When Clarke had remarked on them one day as Lexa arrived on her horse, Lexa had turned and glared in return to the man that leered at them.

Indra approached the man and said something to him and he turned away, stomping back toward the brewery.

“He wouldn’t dare to harm you two when he stands to lose his life as well as his work if he were to do so.” Indra told them.

Lexa watching the man go turned to Indra.

“I will kill him myself should any harm come to Clarke.” She declared. “If any of these men try any harm upon me or my own.”

Indra gave her a knowing nod and returned to guarding the farm.

 

The day Bellamy returned from the fort with a woman, Clarke had teased him ceaselessly, as did Octavia until he gave them her name. Echo. He had met her a few times in town and hoped to perhaps charm her into the farm life. He wanted to marry her.

Octavia decided that was the time to come clean to Bellamy about her spending time with Lincoln.

Bellamy was not too pleased, being the overprotective brother that he was.

Lincoln had to come to Bellamy and speak to him. Clarke had witnessed the event, Bellamy fresh from a hunt using the techniques that Lincoln had taught him.

Bellamy had shouted at Lincoln wondering if he had only been hanging around him in order to get close to Octavia.

He had punched at Lincoln then and they had brawled in the snow. Clarke had lurched forward to stop them, only for Lexa to pull her back.

“Let them have it out.” She told Clarke as the men wrestled.

Lincoln easily overpowered Bellamy. He had the training of a being a scout. Clarke shook her head when she noticed Raven holding her hand out to Murphy and the man putting a few bills in her hand.

Bellamy laid back in the snow, and Lincoln said his peace.

“I care for her, Bell, you, I want to be my brother, and all that I taught was so that you might be strong and take care of yourself and a family someday, like I will Octavia, if you will let me.” He held a hand out and helped Bellamy stand.

Bellamy dusted the snow off of himself. He sighed and shook Lincoln’s hand.

“She would have made her own choice. I cannot stop her.” Bellamy gave him.

“Be good to her that is all I ask.” Bellamy then turned away and went into his own cabin.

Lincoln started to go after him, but Octavia stopped him.

“Give him a moment.”

Lincoln and Octavia could be seen with one another openly after that. It took nearly two weeks before Bellamy was seen with Lincoln hunting again.

He told Clarke drunkenly one night, he needed time to adjust to the fact that his sister was an adult and falling in love. He also feared losing her like they had lost their parents. They had been together, just the two of them for so long. Bellamy didn’t know how to feel about her marrying Lincoln to make a home of their own.

Lexa had interrupted then and mentioned Lincoln had ideas of staying on the Blake ranch, he did not intend on taking Octavia from Bellamy. Not when he was a scout. Octavia needed to be with family and Lincoln did not desire to separate them.

That had helped Bellamy feel better about the coupling.  

 

Lexa’s visits grew more frequent though with each visit she seemed to grow more agitated. When Clarke confronted her as she fidgeted and did all she could to stay busy within her home, Lexa confessed to what was bothering her.

Unrest amongst the Sioux, Cheyenne and Arapaho was at a boiling point. The tribes were raiding settlers as they rode west, attacking smaller settlements and killing folk as they saw fit.

The Pawnee Scouts allied with the soldiers of the fort would have to ride out with them in response to the raids.

Lexa did not speak it, but Clarke could sense the conflict within her heart. She was a Pawnee Scout and should they ride out with the white men to fight she might have to go with them. She did not seem as if she wanted to kill other Indians.

Clarke held her at night through nightmares. She held her when Lexa tossed and turned against her fears. She soothed her cries in the night and gave her soft words, singing quietly until Lexa calmed and slept peacefully.

 

***Warning for mentions of sexual assault***

It was as March closed that Murphy’s warning came to a head.

Clarke was making her way home after collecting the shorn wool from the Blakes. She had completed several blankets and the trade she received from them was keeping her and Raven through the winter. Raven, meanwhile spent much time at the brewery, repairing and improving the stills for the Murphies.

On a day such as this one, Clarke was left to keep herself busy. Lexa had returned to the fort to run supplies and Raven was gone again at the brewery.

Indra helped the Blakes with their shearing. Clarke’s stomach turned when she noticed the man rounding the corner of her home as she approached.

The way he leered at her boded ill for her and she knew she needed to get away. She had left her father’s rifle at home, foolishly thinking she would be safe within her own home grounds.

She realized she wasn’t now.

Clarke stopped and her eyes darted toward her home. The man was greasy even for the cold. His eyes roamed Clarke, the intent in them obvious.

“Don’t got anyone to protect you now, do ye, girly?” The man’s grin made Clarke’s stomach lurch.

She backed up, back toward the Blake ranch.

He pulled a pistol and Clarke froze.

“Now, you’re going to listen here. You’ll enter that home of your’n and not make a sound. I’ll follow after ye, and I will have my way.” He told her.

Clarke choked the sob that threatened to tear form her throat. She clenched her jaw and slowly stepped forward.

Maybe if she was quick enough, she could get into the house and shut him out. The rifle was tucked in a corner beside the door.

If she could get in, and barricade herself, she could grab the rifle and fend him off.

Clarke trembled as she pretended to go along, as she stepped forward towards the house.

“Drop the gun.” Her heart stopped as she recognized that voice.

 _Lexa_ , Clarke thought to herself.

“Drop the gun, or I will put a bullet through those parts of yourself you likely treasure so much.” Lexa’s voice promised terror and death in one fell blow.

Clarke whimpered as the man spoke. She knew it would haunt her.

“Deviants. You shoot and I will pull the trigger on your girl.” He taunted.

“Clarke.” Lexa said her name and Clarke knew what she had to do.

A shot rang out and Clarke dived as the second shot rang out. Wood splintered above her as she hit the deck. The missed pistol bullet embedded in her home.

Clarke closed her eyes and took in shuddered breaths.

A hand enclosed upon her shoulder and Clarke jerked away in fear. She calmed when she saw that it was Lexa that knelt beside her.

“Clarke, I’m here.” Her voice soft and her eyes worried.

Clarke shot up and wrapped her arms around Lexa, clinging to her. She let the sobs that she had been holding in out as the woman held her in her arms.

“I’m here, Clarke, I’m here.” Lexa repeated over and over into her curls as she cried into her shoulder. She did this until Clarke’s sobs died down and she only trembled and sniffled into her shoulder. Lexa slid an arm under legs and lifted her. She opened the door to her house and carried Clarke into her room, setting her in her bed.

“I will return Clarke.” Lexa reassured her when Clarke grabbed for her wrist as she stepped away from the bed.

Lexa left the house and found Indra watching over the man she had shot.

“He will not be missed.” Indra remarked as Lexa approached. “He had no family and was infamous for getting drunk and being drunk on the job.”

Footsteps approached and Lexa turned to see John Murphy heading towards them.

He eyed the body on the ground, blood spattered in the snow around him. He raised a brow at Lexa.

“Honestly, you did me a favor.” He stated.

“The man was stealing some of our brew. My father was about to have him killed anyways.” He shrugged.

He turned to Indra.

“Go let him know he’s taken care of and I’ll need a cart.” Murphy ordered.

Indra left off to do as he said.

Murphy gave Lexa a regretful look.

“I did warn you.” He shook his head.

Lexa growled at him and he put his hands up.

“Hey, I don’t care what you do, I myself have indulged in a man or two on the road west but I wouldn’t dare let anyone notice.” He walked toward the side of the house where shovels used to clear snow from around the house were set.

“I’ll probably need this.” He remarked as he looked the tool over. He nodded at the house.

“Go on in and take care of her. I’ll get rid of this.” He kicked the corpse lying in the snow. Indra returned with a cart.

Lexa murmured her thanks and went into the house. She found Clarke curled in on herself.

“Clarke.” She spoke her name softly as she stepped into the room. Lexa did not wish to startle her, not when she felt like she might after what had just occurred.

Lexa took off her boots and shed her coat. She pulled the blankets from the edge of the bed and slid in beside Clarke, wrapping her up in her arms.

Clarke nestled into her chest, below her chin.

“Thank you, Lexa.” Her voice was raw.

“Thank you for being here.”

Lexa tightened her arms.

“Don’t leave me.” Clarke whispered.

Lexa closed her eyes and wished she could stay forever. If only to continue to protect Clarke like she felt herself needing to.

She pressed her lips to Clarke’s temple.

“I’m here, Clarke.” Her heart ached as she spoke the words.

“I will be here as long as I can.”


	8. Chapter 8

**June 1864**  
Lexa rode into Clarke’s farm, intent on convincing Clarke to join her today. She was required to carry a message from the fort to a village of her people. She led a second horse, Clarke had her own, but Lexa didn't want to remove it from the farm if they needed it. She had borrowed the horse from the stable of the fort with permission.

Clarke worked the fields with Raven nearby. She wiped at her head, sweat pooling at her pulled back blonde curls. Lexa admired the view from the back of her horse, enthralled by Clarke's curves. She had found herself quite the lovely woman.

Clarke caught sight of her and straightened, a small smile quirking her lips.

“You just going to watch me?” She teased Lexa. Lexa gave her a dark look and Clarke could have sworn she would have said yes if not for Raven nearby.

“If you two are going to be all over each other, I'm going to melt into the ground.” Raven informed the two of them.

Clarke glared at her.

“I was actually, wondering if you were up for a ride.” Lexa spoke up at last. She tilted her head at the second horse.

Clarke eyed her curiously. She noticed Lexa's clothing. She didn't wear her usual fort scout uniform with mixtures of her people’s garb mixed in. She was in full regalia, folded blanket wrapped around her waist, leggings, moccasins, her torso wrapped in a buckskin tunic and feathers threaded through her braided hair.

“Where to?” Clarke asked.

“I must deliver a message to my village.” Lexa answered.

“My mother has been asking after you.”

Clarke gave her a surprised look.

“She has?”

Lexa nodded.

Raven, listening in on the exchange, spoke up at last, “Go on. Meet the family!”

Clarke gave Raven a look.

“Are you sure?” Clarke looked concerned.

Raven laughed. “Don't worry I can take care of this place alone. I've got Indra here.”

Clarke turned to Lexa. “How long?”

“A day’s ride, we’ll stay the night, maybe a day, then ride back.” Lexa replied. Clarke raised an eyebrow at Raven. Raven shrugged.

“Go.” Raven insisted.

“Then, yes.” She turned away to put away her tools and ran into the house to grab whatever she might need for the ride. She returned, with a pack and a water skin in hand.

“In case I'm inspired.” She told Lexa at her questioning look. Lexa hid her smile. Clarke never went anywhere without a sketch journal. Even on market days, Lexa had found Clarke with the book sketching something or someone. It was her second one, her first filled with page after page of sketches. Lexa had brought her paper, sketches, hides and even paints from her people as gifts from time to time. She loved to see what Clarke would create.

Clarke climbed onto the horse’s back gracelessly. Lexa had the horse saddled for Clarke. While Lexa rode bareback, she knew Clarke was not trained to do so. Perhaps Lexa could teach her later.

“Ready?” Lexa asked her. Clarke nodded and they began their ride.

 

"I noticed you're growing more wheat this year.” Lexa mentioned as she led Clarke northward.

Clarke nodded. “The Murphy family is raising profits on the crop. We’ll sell them what we grow and maybe be able to buy another horse after this season.”

They rode on in companionable silence for a time. They had spent what free moments during spring they could together. Lexa even helped prepare the ground for planting at Clarke’s farm. It was not uncommon for them to fall into happy silences, content to enjoy the peace they shared with one another.

“Lexa?” Clarke spoke after some time.

“Hmm?” Lexa had been musing, thinking of her family left in her village.

“Tell me about your people?” Clarke asked softly.

Lexa thought for a moment before answering.

“My mother, I told you she raised me, calling me Lexa. She's a white woman taken in by the tribe. My father died not long after I received my name. He died of sickness.” Lexa began.

“My mother should remarry, but she is a white woman, so no one presses her to move on. She works with my father’s brother, the Medicine Man of the tribe, gathering whatever he asks. He is a good man and has a wife and children of his own.” Lexa explained.

“The women run much of the political structure, the men, war and hunting. My relatives all live in one great earth lodge together.”

“Earth lodge?” Clarke asked, intrigued.

“You'll have to see it to understand.” Lexa told her.

Clarke hummed. She began to sing as they rode along.

_I've seen forest bright green gold_   
_I've seen wonders be untold_   
_Nothins got a hold on me_   
_Like that girl with eyes of forest green_

Lexa eyed Clarke from her own horse knowing that this was an original song sung just for her. She bit her lip and listened, warmth filling her, amazed and soothed by the sound of Clarke’s sweet voice filling the warming summer air.

_Yes sometimes I can't believe_   
_That this girl was made for me_   
_She runs swiftly like the wind_   
_By sight of her I have sinned_

Lexa laughed at that line and felt her face redden.  
“Clarke!” She admonished.  
Clarke only grinned at her and continued to sing with her lilt.

_Her hair wild and so free_   
_And she was made for me_   
_Her eyes bright like green gold_   
_With love like hers I am bold_   
_Yes sometimes I can't believe_   
_That this girl was made for me_

Clarke finished. Lexa moved her horse close enough to Clarke’s that she leaned and reached over at once, drawing Clarke into a hard, deep kiss.

They both pulled away, breathless.

Clarke's blue eyes held Lexa's own green.

“What was that for?” Clarke questioned with raised brows.

“Being you.” Lexa laughed after she got her breath back.

Clarke smiled.

“I should sing more often if that's going to be the response!” She replied. She noted a stream ahead.

“Race you?” She pointed at the stream. Lexa quirked a small smile.

“If you think you can take me.” With that, she was off, the horse beneath her thighs responding to a the squeeze she gave with her muscles. Lexa charged forward. She reached the stream long before Clarke.

She hopped off the horse gracefully and led him over to drink. Clarke arrived shortly.

“That was so not fair!” Clarke called to her as she clamored off her own ride’s back. Lexa laughed at her as she led her own horse to drink. Lexa splashed water onto her face to cool down. Clarke refilled her water skin. They soon began a game of splashing one another until Lexa grasped Clarke around the waist. Clarke's eyes widened.  
“Lexa!” She warned.

Lexa threw them both sideways into the shallow stream, drenching them with cool water. Clarke spluttered. She splashed Lexa in the face as she huffed, her blonde curls free from their tail and sticking to her face.

“Lexa!” Clarke whined, but was soon cut off by wet lips. She moaned as she noticed the wet skin she could feel beneath wet cloth against her own.

Lexa pulled away and began to pull off her clothing.

“We should take time to dry, Clarke.” Lexa taunted. She left the stream to hang up her clothing on a tree branch as she removed the rest of what she wore. Clarke followed her, feeling her skin heat, despite the cool stream she had just been dunked into. She removed her own clothing as well, draping all she wore over a branch and pulling Lexa toward her, sliding her tongue into her mouth.

They both moaned at the feeling as they edged to the stream. Lexa pulled Clarke to a slick rock she had seen as they played and pushed her to sit on the edge of it, grasping Clarke's knees and sliding between them. Clarke squirmed as Lexa slipped her tongue into her mouth again and made her way down her jaw, licking, sucking and pressing her lips down the centerline of Clarke's taunting body. She held her face between Clarke's breasts, sucking at the center between them, swirling her tongue and leaving a mark.

She moved lower as Clarke gasped and moaned clutching at her head. When she reached her center Lexa licked her lips. Clarke was already glistening not just from the stream but her own juices. Lexa slid her tongue along Clarke's slit and felt Clarke shudder above her, Clarke's fingers tightening in her hair.

“L-Lexa.” Clarke groaned.

Lexa began to work at her, licking upward, dipping and swirling, licking again, just barely contacting Clarke's nub until she felt Clarke's hips moving in earnest, a sign she was reaching her peak. Lexa latched onto her nub just as she felt Clarke was getting to the top and sucked, her tongue flicking and swirling and Clarke arched and pulled at her hair. Lexa could hear her moans as she gave in, arching and shuddering and bucking against her mouth. Clarke slumped forward as she came down. Lexa kissed her way up, pressed a soft, slow kiss to Clarke's mouth.

They held eyes for several long moments before Lexa pulled away.

“Think those clothes are dry enough?” Lexa teased. “Or do you think we have time for more?”

Clarke pulled her to her mouth again.

 

It was nearing sundown before Lexa and Clarke arrived to Lexa’s village. Lexa was greeted happily by some and ignored by others. Clarke found the mixed reaction interesting. She would ask Lexa about it later.

Lexa led the way to one of several large earth lodges. Clarke was in awe of the structures. They seemed to be great round houses built into the earth itself. Grass and thatch covered the sides of many, with wood bracing the doorways. She noted the animal skins rolled or tied off to the side of the entries. It was probably warm with the summer heat.

She followed Lexa into the lodge she had led them to after they had settled their horses. Clarke eyed the inside of the earth lodge in wonder yet again. It was far more spacious within. A second, lower level could be seen from the entry where several people sat, chatting. She noted what looked to be wooden posts and animal skins used to create barriers around the inside to make rooms.

Someone called to them in the Pawnee language. Clarke looked to see an older woman, her hair a light brown, her face pale and her eyes the same shade of green as Lexa's headed toward them.

Lexa embraced her as the woman reached them.

“Clarke, I would like you to meet my mother.” The woman eyed Clarke and stepped forward. She pulled Clarke into a hug.

“I have long waited to meet the one that has so caught my Lexa's spirit.” The older woman whispered into her ear.

Clarke, feeling awkward at being hugged by a motherly figure at first, began to melt into the embrace.

“She has caught my own as well.” Clarke admitted.

“Good. Come, eat. Lexa can go deliver her message.” Lexa's mother pulled Clarke along toward the center of the lodge and Clarke threw Lexa one last look before Lexa gave her an encouraging nod and turned away to do as she had come to do.

 

Clarke was filled to the brim with food and leaning back, relaxing and listening to the women gossip around her. She couldn't understand a word that was being said but was gleaning from their tones that they were chatting about local village occurrences. They nagged at the children as they stumbled in their horseplay and laughed, giving sly grins as they joked around.

“The men are either hunting or scouting for the fort.” Lexa's mother had returned. She had been called away to settle a feud between two younger mothers within the lodge.

Clarke nodded. She had noticed the lack of men. There were a few older ones and boys milling about but none of the fit, healthy men were anywhere to be seen.

“Lexa reports to the chief and my late husband's brother. They'll make a decision on what to do as far as supplying the fort with scouts and warriors goes.” She was informed.

“Be warned child, there is the sound of war drums in the distance. The Pawnee make war on their own kind. I do not yet know if this will fare well in the outcome for them.”

Clarke frowned. “You speak as if you know.”

Lexa's mother watched the people around her.

“I might not have been born one of them, but I have lived amongst them for a long time. I have learned their ways, though I still have some of my old thoughts. At times those conflict. Settlers want these people to fit in with them, but these people? Why should they have to when their way has shown them they are right to live it as they do?” She was questioned. Clarke did not have an answer.

Why should these people have to try to fit into her ways? They seemed to be surviving, laughing, smiling, scolding, all the things she did just slightly differently.

“I don't know.” Clarke watched as Lexa entered the lodge. Lexa's eyes held her own. She did know one way in which these people were better than her own.

Lexa's mother squeezed Clarke's knee.

“Amongst the Pawnee, the two of you are accepted. You would be welcome with open arms and be joined together. Amongst the white men you are seen as deviants, something to be corrected or gotten rid of.” She was told. “Just remember that here, you are welcome.”

Clarke nodded silently, letting the words sink in. She stood and crossed to join Lexa, embracing her. Lexa grinned and glanced around the inside of the lodge before planting a kiss on her lips.

Clarke heard whoops and calls from behind her and blushed.

“My mother will stay with my aunt for the night. You and I will have our own room to ourselves.” Lexa whispered into her ear. Clarke ignored the racing of her heart as Lexa pulled Clarke to one of the portioned off areas of the lodge and pulled aside an animal skin, ushering Clarke through first.

They stripped and curled up together. Lexa covering them with a woven blanket. Clarke fell asleep her head tucked under Lexa's chin.


	9. Chapter 9

**June 1864 Cont’d**

Clarke woke up to the smell of smoke, sweat, dry grass, fur, buckskin and various drying herbs surrounding her. She felt the warmth of Lexa wrapped around her and nestled into the hardened body against her back. Lexa's lips were pressed against her neck, a strong arm wrapped under her breasts, Lexa's hand cupping one of them.

Clarke danced fingers along the arm and wrapped her hand around Lexa's, squeezing, holding back a moan as she realized that it caused Lexa's hand to squeeze her breast. She bit her lip and pressed her rear into Lexa's hips, squirming. She had woken up wanting.

Lexa's lips pressed against her neck, signaling to Clarke that she was waking. Clarke twisted her head as she squeezed Lexa's hand against her breast again, moaning, openly. She felt a hand dancing along her tailbone, tracing between her cheeks and she arched into the sensation.

The fingers skittered across and around her rear but never went near her hole, teasing her. Clarke gasped as Lexa bit into her shoulder and the hand gripping her breast played its way down her abdomen. She squirmed and moaned as Lexa placed kisses along her shoulders. Fingers met her wetness and Clarke choked out a whispered scream as Lexa began to run a finger along her welcoming slit.

She bit into a knuckle as Lexa teased her puckered hole with one hand and pushed fingers through her wetted core with the other. She bucked as Lexa thrust into her. She fought the cries working their way out of her mouth as Lexa rubbed and teased working her up, she was almost embarrassed at how quickly she reached her peak with Lexa teasing one lewd hole while rubbing and thrusting within the other.

She cried out as she came but Lexa did not let up, rubbing and thrust harder, pushing another finger into her and Clarke realized startled that she was quickly building up for another peak. She felt a fullness against the front wall of her womanhood and couldn't help the loudness of her moans, her knuckles clutching at furs as she came again, with an unsettling amount of wetness streaming pushing out from between her thighs. Her mouth hung open in surprise and she turned over, alarmed as she looked at Lexa, pulling fingers from her.

Lexa licked at her fingers, her hand and wrist glistened with Clarke's wetness, evidence of what Clarke had done. She wore a look of great pride as she worked her tongue along her fingers.

“I have never made a woman pour like a waterfall, Clarke, but many a man or woman that has lain with women takes pride in being able to do so.” Lexa smirked at her. “I can now take pride in knowing I can make my woman do such a thing.”

Clarke felt her legs still shaking from the body-shocking orgasm. She eyed Lexa's still glistening hand and leaned over her lover, pressing an open mouth kiss to Lexa's lips. She could taste herself. She slipped a tongue into Lexa's mouth, lapping up her flavor, moaning.

They took their time, exchanging their good morning in a passionate, loving manner until Lexa pulled away.

“I should probably receive the message they want to send to back to the fort.” She looked at Clarke apologetically. Clarke kissed her again and nodded. They made their way out of bed, dressing, exchanging kisses and trying so very hard to resist going at one another again.

 

Clarke was left to her own devices within the Pawnee village while Lexa received the message to be sent back to the fort. Lexa’s mother took charge of her, feeding her and showing her around, even taking her to a nearby pond to “wash her daughter’s sweat off of her” she told her with a knowing look. Clarke had blushed at that. The entire inside of the earth lodge had probably heard them. Her mother just chuckled a little and told her “they will only tease a little and perhaps Lexa will be given some pride.”

Clarke had nothing to say to that.

A small girl at one point ran up to Clarke as she took a break while Lexa's mother chatted away with another of the women of the village. Clarke drew from in her sketchbook, taking inspiration from her surroundings, drawing some of what she saw around her.

The child leaned over her shoulder and watched her as she drew. When Clarke noticed, the child grew shy. Clarke flipped to another page and showed her more of her sketches. The girl sat beside her smiling and speaking, Clarke not understanding at all what she said.

Finally the girl patted a page and clapped her hands and pointed at her face.

Clarke understood what she wanted.

“You want me to draw you?” She held up her charcoal and the child nodded. Clarke laughed and the child clapped and laughed with glee, settling in as Clarke began to sketch.

Clarke noted the features to her face. She was small and adorable, no older than six or seven. Her dark hair was braided. She wore a cloth dress. Her small nose, dark, almond shaped eyes and full-lipped mouth were all features of a moon-shaped face.

Clarke sketched quickly, she didn't want the child to have to sit for too long. When she was done, she showed the girl her work.

The toothy, crooked smile she got in return was worth it. The child tapped the page and Clarke tore the page from the binding of the sketchbook and handed it to her. The child gave her another toothy smile and ran off, waving the sketch.

“Now the other children will want one.” Lexa whispered over her shoulder.

Clarke smiled at that.

“It wasn't much. She was adorable.” She watched as the girl showed her friends the sketch. They all passed it around as she pointed back at Clarke.

“You like children?” Lexa asked her after a moment, watching Clarke as she stared at the group of children dreamily.

Clarke smiled.

“They're innocent, they don't know how hard life is.” Clarke gave her a wistful look.

Lexa looked down at the ground a little sadly.

“Clarke, if it is children you want, I cannot give them to you.” Lexa murmured.

Clarke frowned at the woman.

“Lexa.” She shook her head. “I'm not worried about that.”

“Right now, all I want is you.” She reassured her.

Lexa looked up and nodded, though she still couldn't help but feel that wasn't entirely enough.

 

That evening as they left the village, the girl Clarke had sketched ran up to them as they turned their horses out of the village.

She held out a necklace made of carved bone beads.

Lexa smiled at that.

“Looks like she wants to give you a gift for your sketch.” Lexa informed her as The girl held the gift up to Clarke.

“Oh.” Clarke smiled at the girl, warmed by the gesture. “Thank you.”

Lexa spoke to the girl in Pawnee. She smiled shyly and said something back and ran off.

“What did the two of you say?” Clarke wondered.

“She said your work is beautiful and she wanted to give you some of her own in exchange.” Lexa told her.

Clarke took the necklace and tied it around her neck.

“It's wonderful.” She remarked, pleased.

Her time spent among Lexa's people had been nice. She hoped to return again.

 

They rode well into the night. The moon rose high above them when they heard the gun shots. Lexa stopped, reaching out for Clarke to do the same.

She listened, dismounting her horse. Clarke followed as Lexa led them to a copse of trees. Lexa hid the horses and Clarke behind the trunks, taking point as she looked around.

A group of men rode by on horses, their trousers and shirts dirty, hats torn and their horses ragged animals. They led other horses, packed and laden with loot. Bandits, Clarke realized. They had probably just robbed unknowing settlers.

They didn't notice them, clearly in a hurry to return to wherever they based themselves. Lexa waited, watching them as they rode off into the night.

She gestured for Clarke to follow her, patting her horse and commanding it to follow Clarke softly, as she went to the trail the bandits had left behind. Clarke didn't say a word, letting Lexa work as she tracked the bandits’ trail back to where they had come from.

They found the caravan in the direction they had heard the shots. A wagon set aflame, the smell of bodies burning set Clarke's stomach to roiling.

Whimpering alerted them to the presence of someone at a nearby outcropping of rocks.

Lexa frowned as she approached the rocks cautiously.

“It's okay. They're gone. You can come out.” Lexa called out softly.

A sniffle and then a boy, no older than ten crawled out from beneath a boulder. He was pale with flaming hair. Clarke could barely see his eyes reflected in the firelight, but she could tell they were blue.

“What's your name?” Lexa asked the boy as he stood before them, clearly distressed.

“A-Aden.” He stuttered through tears.

“Aden.” Lexa said steadily. “Can you tell us what happened here?”

“M-my family.” He managed, before he collapsed.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey lot! I started college recently so Ive been very busy! Its for creative writing. Its been pretty awesome so far. I love it! 
> 
> Anyways I hope to bring updates when Im not busy but no expectations please? I am doing my best!

July through September 1864

The boy did not speak for the first month he was with them. When Clarke and Lexa returned to her home with Aden in tow, there was a question written in Raven’s eyes, but when Clarke shook her head, she did not ask. 

Clarke filled her in on his origins later as Aden slept. 

He slept and ate little for days. Clarke heard him awaken in the night, crying. She would bring a bowl of water and wet cloth, wiping his face, careful not to startle him. The first night he had awoken, she had tried comforting him by holding him, only for him to pull away and curl into himself, as if afraid. 

It took some talking to Lexa for Clarke to realize she wasn't what Aden was afraid of. 

She cared for him, steadily until one night, he opened up about the attack.

“They were watching us.” He finally whispered one night as Clarke tended to him. 

Clarke didn't speak, she only listened. She was willing to wait as long as he needed. 

“Pa had a bad feeling that night at camp. He had my brothers double up on watch. I thought it was weird but then, sometimes he gets a feeling, in his gut.” Aden continued. “Ma told him he was being paranoid, that we should all get some rest, we still had more road ahead of us.”

He closed his eyes. 

“I was laying down to sleep when they attacked. I sleep, -slept,- under the wagon, because ma and pa said it was safer.”

A tear rolled down his cheek. Clarke carefully wiped it. He reached up and held onto her hand. 

“I heard the gunshots, they got my brothers first. My pa managed to shoot back. I saw my ma-,” His voice hitched.

‘They had her. One of them held her with a knife. She fell and I barely hear her say for me to get out of there. They didn't know I was there. They were raiding our supplies.” 

Clarke swiped her thumb over his cheek. He swallowed. He needed this.

“I crawled out while they were distracted, hid.” Aden’s face screwed up with pain. “They were there until mornin’.”

Tear after tear slid down his cheek. 

“I can still hear my ma’s screams.”

Dread pooled in Clarke’s stomach. They had arrived the next day, hearing gunshots, seeing fire.

“Th-they-,” Clarke shook her head. She wiped Aden’s tears with the cloth. She had a feeling she knew what happened next, Lexa had told her she had seen bodies burning in and around the wagon. They had killed and raided Aden’s family, used Aden’s mother, shot her, then burned the bodies. 

She continued to wipe at his tears as he closed his eyes. He fell asleep, crying. 

Clarke resolved to care for him. Raven had been asking for weeks what they were planning to do, he was an extra mouth and currently did not work. 

She would raise him, teach him to farm, he could tend to the ranch with them. 

She would help him heal. 

 

Raven was all too happy for the extra hand. When Clarke told Raven her plan to have him begin working with them, Raven marched right into Clarke's room with another serving of their soupy dinner that night, and handed him the bowl.

“Eat up and rest up. Tomorrow you start your lessons in ranching!” Raven told him. She turned away and marched out as quickly as she did in. 

 

Aden took to the life well. He worked hard with Clarke in the fields and on days when he had to learn about sheep, he seemed to enjoy the animals. 

Bellamy’s dog, Fish took right to him and the dog could be seen with the sheep sometimes. At others, Clarke found him playing, rolling in the dirt with the dog. 

Lexa had taken to a hunt. She didn't say, but Clarke had heard in town about a group of bandits that were raiding caravans moving west. Lexa’s visits were brief, sometimes only long enough for a meal and a few shared kisses within their home.

It was driving Clarke mad. 

Aden didn't gather the courage to speak to Lexa until his second month. He was intimidated, but also in awe of her stoic manner, but he also saw the way she and Clarke looked at one another. It was like his ma and pa. It comforted him in a way.

When he did finally speak to Lexa it was because of her work. He had been watching and listening. He knew she was scout. She was searching for a group of bandits. The same that had killed his family. 

“One had a scar.” He whispered to Lexa. Lexa had come to sit beside him on the porch as he gazed at the stars. It was something his pa would do with him, watch stars until he told him they should sleep.

“He was bald. There was a scar over his right eye.” He remembered. “I think he was the leader. He kept giving orders like one.”

Lexa gripped his shoulder. He didn't realize it, but he was crying. 

He looked up at her. 

“Please kill them.” His whisper was small but pleading. 

“I don't know if I can have peace until I know he is gone.”

Lexa nodded. She pulled him in. Aden didn't pull away as she held him as he cried. Clarke watched the two of them, knowingly. 

Lexa stayed that night. They laid quilts and blankets on the floor in the living room for Aden to sleep on. 

“Guess we will have to see about building him a room.” Clarke sighed.

The made quiet aching love. The kind two lovers make when they have missed the contact, the feel of having the other wrapped around them. They did not let go of one another as they rubbed and pressed lips to mouth, breast, cheekbone, neck, wherever they could reach without pulling away from one another completely. Even as Lexa moved down to taste Clarke, she was pulled back up.

“I just need you like this right now.” Clarke pleaded. The kiss they shared was slow, savoring, and full of promise. 

When they slept, they were so tightly wound in one another that as they were awoken by the sounds of Aden having another nightmare, they had to untangle in order to get to him. They pulled on shirts as they rushed to the child they were growing to love's side. 

Aden struggled and cried in his sleep. It was Lexa who woke him, reaching out to touch him. He started. Seeing Clarke, he dived into her arms for the first time, burying his face into her chest. 

With Lexa’s help, Clarke soothed him until he slept again. They watched him with sad eyes as he slept. 

“He is so young to have seen what he has seen.” Clarke whispered to Lexa. Lexa wrapped around her. 

“I just wish we could take away his nightmares somehow.” 

Lexa kissed the back of Clarke's neck. 

“We would have to take away his bad memories. The only thing we can do is teach him to make happy ones.”

 

The next morning, Lexa began to teach Aden how to use a bow and arrow. 

“It is probably a good idea to teach him how to hunt.” Clarke watched as Lexa brought him through the steps of fixing his stance and holding a bow. 

“You won't shoot until we have made you a bow.” Lexa promised him. Clarke saw the way his eyes lit up. 

 

It would be another month before he learned to make a bow. With Lexa’s work as a scout, she was kept very busy. Each time she showed up at the ranch, Clarke would wave him off as Lexa took charge of him. They would take a ride off into the woods on horseback. 

He was proud once he held a bow in his hands. Lex wouldn't let him shoot yet, but he Clarke caught him practicing his stance in the evenings. 

It was one such evening when Lexa appeared, her arm wrapped up in bandages, that Aden’s nightmares were laid to rest.

Lexa held his eyes. She seemed to think something over. She pulled something out of her belt purse and handed it to him. 

Aden turned over medallion his father used to wear in his hands. He knew what it meant. He felt relief, grief, and exhaustion wash over him. 

“Thank you.” Is all he managed to get out before he was rushing over to both Clarke and Lexa and hugging them. 

They both got him into bed once he fell asleep, clutching the medallion tightly in his hand. Lexa carefully pried it from him, and unclasped it. Clarke lifted his head with care as Lexa slipped the necklace around his neck. He slept on as Lexa placed the medallion on his chest and laid his hand over it. His hand clutched it in his sleep. 

“He now has something else to remind him of his past instead of bad memories and dreams.” Lexa remarked quietly. 

They went to Clarke’s room. 

Clarke ran fingers down the bandage on Lexa's arm. 

“Did they do that to you?” 

Lexa shrugged. 

“He had a gun. He got a good shot in.” 

Clarke shook her head.

“I worry about you.” She laid her head against Lexa's shoulder. 

“I love you, the thought of losing you-,” Clarke didn't finish that sentence.

Lexa hummed. 

She couldn't stand the thought of losing Clarke either. 

“This is my work Clarke. I- I don't know if I am always going to make it home.” Lexa's heart nearly broke at the thought.

“Promise me, Lexa, swear to me, that you'll make it home. I- I can't know you're out there risking your life, without knowing you'll come back to me.” Clarke shuddered against her. Lexa could feel the wetness through her shirt. Hear the hoarseness in Clarke's voice. 

She hesitated. It was her job to risk herself. But she loved Clarke so much. She knew she would do anything to return to her. She would crawl on hands and knees to get back to her. 

“I swear, I promise Clarke, I will return home to you.” Lexa whispered into her hair.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are having a years length time jump due to some events that happen within that year.  
> Late 1864-1865 a series of campaigns were led against the 'Sioux', 'Cheyenne', and 'Arapaho'. These are the American names for them. 
> 
> Those events include the Sand Creek Massacre, in which over 150 women and children were killed by U.S. soldiers. Tribes retaliated and a series of campaigns were led against them with many casualties on both sides. 
> 
> I'm a native mutt and one of those tribes is Pawnee and am often reminded that my ancestors did not just what they had to in order to survive, (Disease greatly reduced our population.) but my dad often tells me, though we are proud, we are often mean. Probably because our history was often mean. 
> 
> In the end, we were all of us, treated the same for being 'Natives' and in the way of what someone else wanted. The Pawnee may have scouted for the U.S. during these campaigns, but eventually, they would be removed to Oklahoma in the mid 1870s.

Late October 1865

Lexa fell to her knees. The ground was hard. Winter was on its way. It was getting cold. She drew her buffalo skin tighter around her shoulders, clenching her fingers tight around the walking stick she had found.

She was so tired. So very tired. Her injured arm and leg didn’t help.

Her horse died when she had gotten separated from the rest of the scouts by bandits. She and another scout were captured and held, dragged along for days before he and Lexa devised an escape. Lexa’s leg was injured in the process, shot just above the knee. Her arm was cut in a knife fight with one of the bandits.

In the end, the bandits all died, and so did her fellow scout.

Though most of them died by her own hand, Lexa did not feel like she deserved to be the victor. Not when her friend had died.

Her heart ached to think of him, left dead, without a ceremony.

She shuddered. It was getting cold, and she was far from home. She had to remind herself.

She didn’t even want to think about how she had gotten here, but knew when night came, she would be haunted by it. Haunted by what she had done. She wasn’t even sure if she deserved to make it home.

The air nipped into her skin. She needed to make shelter for the night. Survival. That’s what she needed to focus on.

Leaning against her stick, Lexa pushed herself up, groaning with pain. She would travel, away from the sun as it set, until it was just above the horizon, then make shelter for another night.

 

Miles and miles away, Clarke watched the horizon. Another day had passed, and no sign of Lexa.

She and Aden spent their day working to harvest the fields with the help of hired hands. She was doing her best to keep her hours busy, but it was always around this time of day, after supper when she would allow herself to watch the sunset, a seed of hope still held in her heart.

Lexa and a large number of scouts left in early summer, headed out for a fort to the northwest. It took too long for news to reach this far, all Clarke knew was a number of tribes were attacking the trails much more aggressively as far as she could figure, in retaliation to a slaughter of their people by a group of soldiers.

She didn’t know how to feel about any of it. How Lexa felt about it, she knew, because there were many nights before Lexa received orders to leave when she would sit or lay in silence with Clarke. She would hold Clarke on those nights like a lifeline, or drag Clarke’s arms around her. Those same nights, Clarke would be woken up by Lexa tossing and turning, her dreams filled with terrors Clarke could not see.

The conflict could be seen in her eyes in the moonlight sometimes. The pain and the ache was always there. Lexa took Clarke back to her village enough that Clarke was learning how her people viewed other tribes, but sometimes, she wondered if Lexa did not always see them the same way.

“Mnaaa.” Clarke glanced down at her feet. One of the cats Aden adopted from the Murphy brewery’s many rat catchers rubbed against her leg.

Clarke reached down to scratch the animal. She sighed. Aden had adopted quite the number of animals since coming to them. Fish had puppies with some nearby mutt from a surrounding farm. He begged and begged for a puppy. It was Raven that gave in when the little thing that he brought to show them licked her face, delighted by its adoration.

The cats roamed the farm, the storage shed, the barn built in the last year. Clarke sometimes had to shoo one from her bed at night. She didn’t mind them, they kept away rodents from their stores. That was necessary.

Grunting coming up the trail to their farm made her look up from scratching the cat.

“Raven, why don’t you just ride a mule around when you’re out for a visit, rather than just walking?” Clarke grinned at the sight. Bellamy complained as he carried Raven on his back.

Raven had her walking stick slung over her shoulder. That was another story. One that sometimes made her ache to think of it.

Murphy rarely came around anymore after that night, blaming himself. He and Raven had gone into town for a drink. As they were leaving, they were met by a man seeking whatever they had of worth.

Murphy tried to fight him, wrestling for his gun while Raven ran away in the distraction. The gun went off and got her in the back.

Raven was stubborn, though, and no matter whatever she was told by Nyko, would often get caught doing things she probably shouldn’t. Which is probably how she ended up being carried on Bellamy’s back to their home.

Bellamy let her down without any gentleness. Raven would have only given him trouble for it.

“I had to bring Octavia what I promised. She’s the one who has been moping around for the last few weeks and hardly leaves the farm.” Raven admonished him.

Bellamy crossed his arms and frowned at her. He raised an eyebrow.

Raven gave him her best innocent look.

Clarke sighed and stepped in.

“Hey, you know, maybe tomorrow, Raven and I can take a cart and Octavia into town for distraction?” Clarke offered. Lincoln had gone with the rest of the scouts. Octavia was coping in her way. Clarke stayed busy, and when Octavia wasn’t busy she was known to shut herself into her room.

Bellamy let out a heavy sigh.

“Probably a good idea.” He nodded. “I’ll talk to her.”

He turned to Raven, leveling her with a glare.

“Ride a mule.”

Raven rolled her eyes.

She limped over and sat on the porch. She waved him off.

“I’ll think about it.”

Clarke and Raven watched him go. Clarke sat beside her friend who wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“She’ll come back.” Raven reassured her.

Clarke didn’t answer. She watched the sunset, hoping Raven was right.   

 

Nightfall. It was always as nightfall came that the nightmares came. Lexa was holed up beneath a rock. She didn’t bother with fire. It was too dangerous of territory for her to put out any kind of fire or smoke. She had to keep a watchful eye out.

The spirits haunted her for a long time. It was her fault, she knew. She was a warrior, but without a warrior’s heart. She fought because she was good at it. No matter how much she did it, she could never turn her heart from what she did. From the pain of what she was doing.

It was worse on this latest campaign.

Lexa was tired, but she fought her sleep. When she closed her eyes, all she could see was people like her dying by her own hand. None had her green eyes or lighter complexion, offered by being half-blood, but they were so much like the family she had grown up with in the village as a child.

It was too much for her. In the end, she was killing other “Indians”. The soldiers would call her savage. Some often had for being a “Half-breed”.

Her eyes closed. She was too tired to stay awake. Her body was exhausted. Her arm and her leg ached deep from their injuries. The cooling air bit into the wounds, she wanted relief so badly. Maybe she would fall into a deep, dark, and dreamless sleep if she just let everything go.

 

The echoes of screams, memories of fire, the whoops and cries of people that should have been like her own, sent her gasping for air from her sleep. She looked around wildly. Morning had not yet come.

She took deep breaths and closed her eyes. She thought of golden hair like sunlight and eyes like morning sky. Slowly, she calmed.

She groaned as she sat up, left to her own thoughts.

They had been sent with the Army to scout against tribes the United States called ‘Cheyenne’, ‘Arapaho’, and ‘Sioux’. Lexa knew different names for these people in even their own languages. In her own, the names were often insulting, she admitted, probably because her people viewed them as enemies.

Were they so different? Were they not also, trying to survive in a place no longer recognizable?

Maybe she was overthinking it.

She closed her eyes.

Her mind was foggy. She was too tired to grab exact details. She waited for the sun to come up. She would walk towards it as it rose. She needed to return home. To Aden, to Clarke.

She would do anything to be held by Clarke right about now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> COLLEGE is hell jdkajk anyways.... I'm updating fics, trying to complete, is finals week.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Twitter!  
> @Darthsayahswag  
> and on Tumblr!  
> http://darthwanheda.tumblr.com/


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